The Lion and the Panther
by AngelDesaray
Summary: Amariel Lavellan had been thrown into the middle of the latest chaotic events of her world, with no real choice to back out. Now she has to figure out how to be the face and spearhead of the reborn Inquisition, how to survive, to cope with the responsibility and the war...And learn what to do about the growing chemistry between herself and her advisor Commander Cullen.
1. Chapter 1: Amariel Lavellan

_**So Dragon Age has taken over my life...aaaannndddd I started a new game on a separate profile simply to write this fanfiction.**_

 _ **So...my gift to you!**_

 _ **Please Review, tell me what you think!  
**_

 _ **Enjoy!**_

* * *

Amariel Lavellan did not understand what had happened.

She had no _memory_ of what had happened.

She knew she had been sent by her clan to the Chantry Conclave as a spy to see how what proceeded there played out, as whatever happened would affect everyone, including her people, the Dalish Elves. Then…it was all black.

She vaguely remembered…green smog…a woman of intense light whose features were indistinguishable…running from something, perhaps spiders, climbing with all her might…

That left the now.

Now she had awoken to find herself bound in some dungeon, with her hand randomly sparking in pain.

 _What?_

Looking down, Amariel was shocked to see that her hand glowed green. As the green mark flared brighter, Amariel felt the sparking pain return and she gasped.

At the same time the door to her cell was literally kicked open, and a fully armed woman with spiky brown hair burst into the room in a fury. Instantly Amariel was surrounded by guards, the angry woman approaching her at a slower pace now like a predator with prey. Behind her was another woman with fair brown hair just above her shoulders, lavender hood pulled upon her head. Amariel stayed quiet as the spiky haired woman circled her, watching her warily as she began to speak.

"Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now. The conclave is destroyed, everyone who attended is dead…except for you," the woman sneered, coming to a stop in front of her once more.

Amariel remained silent. The conclave, destroyed? How was this possible?

Another realization came to her at the same time.

These humans believed her responsible.

Of course they would blame an elf.

When Amariel did not reply, the spiky haired woman grabbed her arm, shoving her marked hand back in her face.

"Explain this," she sneered, and Amariel felt a small spike of panic as the mark sparked.

"I-I…can't," Amariel stuttered for a moment. That only managed to make the woman angrier.

"What do you mean you can't?" the woman accused sharply.

"I don't know _what_ that is or how it got there!" Amariel replied defensively. The woman suddenly grabbed her by the front, her fury evident once more.

"You're lying!"

At this point, the other woman stepped in, pulling her furious companion back and restraining her. "We need her, Cassandra!"

Amariel managed to gather her courage, sitting straighter. "Whatever you think I did, I'm innocent!" she stated avidly.

The other woman stepped up, taking over the interrogation with a gentler tone. "Do you remember what happened, how this began?"

Amariel furrowed her brow, trying to think. "I remember running…things were chasing me, and then…a woman."

"A woman?"

"She reached out to me, but then…"

There was a few moments silence before the angry woman, Cassandra, stepped forward.

"Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take her to the rift."

The other woman—Leliana—nodded and left the room, leaving Amariel with Cassandra.

"What _did_ happen?" Amariel ventured to ask in a soft voice. Cassandra hesitated.

"It will be easier to show you."

With that, Amariel was hefted to her feet and ushered out of the dungeon. Cassandra led the way through the Chantry that they were in and out the front door into the dark winter night. To Amariel's slight concern, the night wasn't really that dark, even with a snowstorm going on, and as soon as she stepped out her hand began to spark again.

Cassandra came to a halt, and Amariel paused as well, looking around to see where this thing was that Cassandra and Leliana had mentioned.

She didn't have to look far.

Up high in the sky was a terrifying green hole, one that Amariel found herself unable to look away from.

What _was_ that thing? What was going on?

"We call it the breach," Cassandra started to explain, breaking the silence. "It's a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour. It's not the only such rift—just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the conclave. Unless we act, the breach may grow until it swallows the world."

No sooner had she finished explaining did the mark upon Amariel's hand suddenly start to spark and glow fiercely, causing such pain to rip up Amariel's arm that she fell to her knees with a cry. Cassandra was there in the next moment.

"Each time the breach expands your mark spreads, and it _is_ killing you. It may be the key to stopping this, but there isn't much time," Cassandra said urgently.

 _Just a few moments ago you were yelling in my face asking me if I was responsible, and now it sounds like you're asking for my help_ , Amariel thought tartly before shaking her head.

A rift into the world of demons…regardless of who was asking it sounded dangerous—deadly—and if she could help…

"I understand," Amariel said softly.

"Then…"

"I'll do what I can—whatever it takes," Amariel said a little more firmly. Cassandra nodded, pulling Amariel—still bound—to her feet. She nodded to the guards, who fell back as Cassandra began to lead Amariel through the little town before them. As they passed people stopped and stared, and not in a good way either. Amariel did her best to shake off their hateful glares, a feat a little easier as she was used to such looks aimed towards her elven race.

"They have decided your guilt," Cassandra explained without looking at her and without faltering. "They need it. The people of Haven mourn our most holy, Divine Justinia, Head of the Chantry. The Council was hers. It was a chance for peace between mages and Templars."

Cassandra was silent a little longer until they came to a slope right before a fortified bridge. "She brought their leaders together. Now they are dead. We lash out, like the sky, but we must think beyond ourselves as she did. Until the breach is sealed."

Cassandra brought Amariel to a stop, pulling out a dagger.

"There will be a trial, I can promise no more." With one swift move, Amariel was freed from her bindings. "Come, it is not far."

"Where are you taking me?" Amariel asked warily.

"Your mark must be tested on something smaller than the breach," Cassandra explained simply. Amariel took her silence after that as her cue, and together they made their way across the bridge. As they approached the large double doors that led to the wilderness before them, Cassandra called to the guards.

"Open the gate, we are heading into the valley!"

The doors were opened before Amariel even reached them, Cassandra only a few steps behind her. Out on the road, soldiers were braced and ready for something, and frightened people ran past them speaking of the end of the world. Amariel dodged the flaming debris of wagons and supplies, surprised at the destruction she saw around her.

What had happened, truly?

Amariel's thoughts were stopped as she was sent to her knees yet again with another pulse of pain, unable to get up. Cassandra had to come up behind her and pull her to her feet.

"The pulses are coming faster now," Cassandra said shortly, and they continued on. As they did so, Cassandra explained how when the breach appeared, there was a blast that destroyed everything around it, and the rift appeared in the sky. According to what others were saying, Amariel had…stepped _out_ of the breach, a woman behind her no one could clearly see. That was all they knew—everyone else was as clueless as Amariel.

They rounded a corner, coming upon another bridge. Just before they managed to cross, a large rock on fire blasted into the bridge, destroying it completely and causing the stones to crumble instantly beneath them. Amariel and Cassandra fell haphazardly onto the solid ice below, and as they pushed themselves to their feet, more green blasts landed around them. From those green blasts sprouted demons.

"Stay behind me!" Cassandra commanded, stepping forward and drawing her longsword. Amariel stepped back, allowing the armed one of their party to deal with the warped creature before them.

At least until another flaming green mass struck the ice before Amariel, and a second demon appeared.

 _That's not going to be an option_ , Amariel thought in alarm, looking around desperately for something—anything—she could use against these creatures.

Then, over by a smashed supply crate, Amariel spotted two daggers just lying there, a sight that caused her to light up.

 _Perfect._

She'd been trained to wield dual blades masterfully as a hunter, and had picked up a bow a few times. This…this she could happily work with.

Amariel lunged to seize the blades, snatching them up off of the ground and spinning around to attack the demon. She came at the creature in a blinding fury, slicing as quickly as she could with the blades and even getting the opportunity to leap into the air and dig her blades into it's back before she was forced to disengage. The creature turned and tried to limp over to where Cassandra was still fighting her demon, but Amariel followed, blades moving at a blinding speed once more. Within moments, Amariel had slayed the demon—which disintegrated in a flash of green—and Cassandra had similarly dealt with hers.

"Its over," Amariel said with a sigh.

She was on the defensive in the next moment as now Cassandra advanced upon her, sword still drawn.

"Drop your weapon, _now_!"

Amariel bristled, but forced herself to relax enough not to cause Cassandra to be even more on edge. However, she did not lower her newly found weapons. "If you're going to lead me through a demon infested valley, you're going to have to trust me."

"Give me one good reason why I should trust you," Cassandra returned harshly.

"Because my life is on the line," Amariel said tersely. Cassandra took that in, then relaxed, lowering her blade.

"You're right…" she said with a sigh, stepping back and turning away. "I cannot protect you, and I cannot expect you to be defenseless. I should remember you agreed to come willingly…"

Turning back to Amariel, Cassandra pushed a few small vials into Amariel's hands for Amariel to store in her pouch.

"Take these potions, who knows what lies ahead of us," Cassandra said seriously, and Amariel was relieved to see the potions were indeed eight healing potions.

They would, in fact, come in handy.

The streams of green light bearing demons continued to fall to the ground as they made their way forward, the distant sound of fighting—men and women shouting as blades clashed—reaching Amariel's ears. She was tired, but she didn't need a potion…not yet…

"We're getting closer to the breach—you can hear the fighting," Cassandra called as they raced up old stone steps.

"Who's fighting?" Amariel called back.

"You'll see soon enough—we must help them," Cassandra replied.

They crested the stairway, and up ahead Amariel could see a concentration of green light and smoke, and the fighting grew to a dull roar. As they approached the next bridge, Amariel zeroed in on the closest demons, jumping right into the fray with her daggers and assisting the nearest soldier so he wouldn't be slaughtered by the assault from the demon that towered over him.

She had just finished off the demon when an elven man suddenly approached her, shouting to be heard over the fighting and the howling wind.

"Quickly, before more come through!" he shouted. Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed Amariel's hand and shoved it towards a glowing, shifting green light just hovering in the air. The wind picked up speed, hair and clothes flying wildly about, and Amariel felt like her hand was being pulled towards the strange light before there was a mild boom and the green light simply disappeared. Amariel stumbled away as if freed from some sort of suctioning force, gazing at the man in shock.

"What did you do?" Amariel asked.

"I did nothing—the credit is yours," the elven man stated gracefully.

"At least this is good for something" Amariel murmured, gazing at her clenched fist that held this strange mark."

"Whatever magic opened the breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorized the mark might be able to close rifts that have opened in the breaches wake—and it seems I was correct," the man continued.

"Meaning it could also close the breech itself," Cassandra stated, a remark to which the man nodded.

"Possibly. It seems you could hold the key to our salvation," the man said.

"Good to know," came another gruff voice off to the side, and Amariel turned to see a dwarven man with a crossbow slung across his back approaching her. "Here I thought we'd be ass deep in demons forever."

The man came to a stop before her. "Varric Tethras: Rogue, storyteller, and occasionally unwelcome tagalong," he said with a smirk, aiming his expression at Cassandra, who immediately looked appalled. Amariel decided to shift towards anything other than the current track of conversation—Cassandra already disliked her enough, there was no reason to irk her forward or encourage someone who irked her.

"That's a nice crossbow you have there," Amariel stated, gesturing to the weapon on Varric's back.

"Ah, isn't she?" Varric replied happily. "Bianca and I have been through a lot together."

"You named your crossbow Bianca?" Amariel asked incredulously.

"Of course, and she'll be great company in the valley."

"Absolutely not!" Cassandra suddenly interjected, stepping forward. "You're help is appreciated Varric, but—"

"Have you been in the valley recently, Seeker? Your soldiers aren't in control of the valley any more. You need me," Varric finished smugly.

Cassandra simply made a sound of disgust and turned away, which prompted the elven man to step up.

"My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions. I am pleased to see you still live," Solas said pleasantly.

"He means 'I kept that mark from killing you while you slept,'" Varric expanded. Amariel turned to face Solas completely.

"Then I owe you my thanks," Amariel said sincerely.

"Thank me if we manage to close the breach without killing you in the process," Solas replied, earning a smile from Amariel before he turned to Cassandra. "Cassandra, you should know, the magic here is unlike any I have seen. Your prisoner is no mage, but I find it difficult to imagine any mage having such power."

Cassandra inclined her head. "Understood. We must get to the forward camp quickly," she stated shortly before they continued forward.

"Well, Bianca's excited," Varric said cheerfully before he followed after the pair with Amariel in tow.

* * *

They only met resistance one more time on the path, resistance that was dealt with much easier with their new companions even though Amariel found herself needing to use a health potion Cassandra had given her. Following the ridge beside the frozen river, they climbed up the steep hill until they came to the next ridge—and from the call of the soldiers by the door for help Amariel assumed it was where they were supposed to be.

Another rift lie waiting for them just before the door, as well as a handful of demons the soldiers were apparently wary of. With just as much fervor as she'd had fighting the other demons and wraiths that attacked them, Amariel plunged forward with her three companions backing her up, going for the wraiths first since they preferred to attack from a distance. It only took a few moments for the few of them to finally dispatch of the creatures, and Amariel turned hesitantly to the rift before her. She looked at her hand, trying to think of how she would do this—Solas had simply shoved her hand towards the other green rift.

Trying to make it look like she had an inkling of what she was supposed to be doing, Amariel shoved her hand towards the green rift, immediately feeling that strange pull as the air started to compress around her, the green light seeming to collapse on itself before there was a small explosion once again and Amariel was released from the pull. She pulled her hand back the same moment that the green rift disappeared and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Open the gate—we need to get through!" Cassandra ordered the soldiers who had stayed out of their way.

"Yes, Seeker!" they replied, and the group of four waited patiently for the two soldiers to do so. Once the doors were open, Amariel and the other three made their way through, passing several soldiers encamped on the bridge. Amariel took the liberty to stop and refill her potions at a supply crate, grateful that no one objected or looked twice. Looking ahead, she spotted the other woman Leliana up ahead speaking to a man garbed in the usual chantry attire. Rising to her feet, Amariel approached the two to hear them arguing.

"Ah, here they come," the Chantry man said distastefully, his tone causing Amariel to bristle.

"You made it," Leliana said in relief, stepping forward. "Chancellor Roderick, this is—"

"I know how she is," Roderick snapped. "As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I hereby order you to take this criminal to Val Royal to face execution!"

"Order _me_?" Cassandra spat. "You are a glorified _clerk_! A bureaucrat!"

"And you are a thug, but a thug who supposedly serves the Chantry!" Roderick returned sharply.

"We serve the Most Holy, Chancellor; as you well know," Leliana replied coolly.

"Justina is dead! We must elect her replacement, and obey _her_ orders on the matter!"

Amariel could barely believe what she was hearing. "So none of you are _actually_ in charge here?" she asked incredulously.

"You killed everyone who was in charge!" Roderick shouted furiously at Amariel. Cassandra frowned and stepped forward, though Roderick continued to speak. "Call a retreat, Seeker, our position here is hopeless."

"We can stop this before it's too late," Cassandra argued.

"How? You won't survive long enough to reach the temple, even with all your soldiers," Roderick said with a sad sigh.

"We _must_ get to the temple—it's the quickest route," Cassandra rebuffed.

"But not the safest," Leliana cut in. "Our forces can charge as a distraction while we go through the mountains," Leliana pointed out, gesturing to the mountains off to their right.

"We lost contact with an entire squad on that path. It's too risky," Cassandra returned.

"Listen to me: abandon this now before more lives are lost!" Roderick pled.

The giant hole in the sky pulsed powerfully, the sound like thunder while the sky roiled in response, and Amariel's hand began to spark furiously, causing her to grasp her wrist to keep her hand from shaking too much, though she did not cry out this time, remaining silent until the glow faded once more.

To Amariel's immense shock, Cassandra turned back to her. "How do you think we should proceed?"

"Now you're asking _me_ what I think?" Amariel asked with a slight laugh of bewilderment.

"You have the mark," Solas said simply.

"And you are the one we must keep alive," Cassandra added. "Since we cannot agree on our own…"

Amariel sighed, glancing over at the mountains. Yes they could charge, but how many soldiers would be killed? And someone had to go after the missing scouts—something must have happened to them. Amariel looked back to Cassandra. "Use the mountain path," she finally said in a firm voice. "Work together: you all know what's at stake!"

Cassandra nodded, turning back to Lelianna. "Leliana, bring everyone left in the valley—everyone!"

Leliana gave a slight bow of her head, then left to do as asked. Cassandra, Amariel, Solas, and Varric all made their way past the table Roderick now braced himself on, issuing one last sneered comment.

"On your head be the consequences, Seeker."

 _I_ really _do not like him._

* * *

The path was difficult to climb with the freezing cold and blinding snowstorm, but the four trudged through the mountain, determined to make it through the pass and to their destination. Amariel was loath to think of what would happen to her once they finished this task—these people did think she was responsible for what had happened.

And with Amariel's missing memory, for all she knew she _was_ responsible.

Though still, she never would do what they were claiming she had done, and she would stand by her claim of innocence.

Amariel listened only partially as her companions spoke of how they were entering an old mine that would lead to the temple, and how they may come across the missing scouts or at least whatever was holding them. Amariel hoped they did find the scouts—she'd feel terrible if they'd come through the path and left them to perish.

The entrance to the mine appeared and Amariel drew her daggers, ready for trouble. Sure enough, she'd barely made her way into the cave before she spotted a demon, and without hesitation she leapt forward to sink her blades into its side. Her companions reached her in seconds, and once it was clear they could handle the demon Amariel rushed to the left to deal with a wraith she hadn't noticed at first.

She usually was one to just jump into the thick of things.

It only took a few hits to defeat the wraith, and she turned around in time to see the other three defeat not just the initial demon but one of the wraiths as well. Amariel gave them all a small nod before she continued deeper into the passage with them, the faint glow of the torches lighting her way through the stone passageways. She stopped a few times when she noticed abandoned gold, and at one point she even stopped to pick up a dagger that was slightly better than the ones she had grabbed, switching it out for one of her daggers. She found a few other goodies as well, and safely pocketed them.

The path through the mine was even shorter than she'd expected, and with one more brief skirmish with demons and wraiths they were out…but not to a pretty sight.

"I see we've found our missing soldiers," Varric stated quietly as Amariel gazed upon the corpses just in front of the doorway.

"Yes…but not all of them," Cassandra observed, her sharp eyes having already taken in their number.

"So…some of them may still be alive?" Varric stated hopefully.

"Our focus must be the breach, or more shall perish," Solas reprimanded them.

 _Including the soldiers creating a distraction for us_ , Amariel thought. _But one of the reasons I wanted to come this way was to find them_.

"I'm leaving that to our elven friend," Varric told Solas. Amariel started to lead them forward.

"If we find them, we will help them," Amariel stated in a tone that left for no discussion, even if she was the prisoner in their group.

No one argued, though she wasn't sure if Solas disliked his advice being so easily brushed aside.

Thankfully, just down the path, they did find the soldiers locked in a desperate battle with four or five demons, right before one of the rifts, and there were only three of them.

Immediately the group readied their weapons, and Amariel plunged forth, instantly attacking a wraith while her party spread out to assist the soldiers that were pinned in the corner and take care of the other threats.

The demons were gone in seconds, but no sooner had they gotten rid of their first few threats did two lessor terrors come through the rift, immediately demanding their focus. Amariel turned to deal with the one closest to her, Solas assisting her and attacking it from a distance with his spells, though no sooner had they managed to defeat the lessor terror did the other one disappear underground, and while Amariel tried to move away from where she'd been it moved much faster, popping out of the ground and coming straight for her. Varric managed to shoot it, and Solas reacted quick enough to hold it at bay with a few spells. Their combined efforts gave Amariel time to get back to her feet and a safer distance away before she and Cassandra joined them in attacking the creature, and they quickly defeated it all together.

Without any hesitation this time, Amariel turned to face the rift, shoving her hand towards it to close it before any more demons could stumble through. As it's small exploding sound ripped through the air, Solas approached her.

"It sealed as before…you are becoming quite proficient in this."

"Let's hope it works on the big one," Varric quipped.

Over by the scouts, Cassandra was helping their leader to her feet, a woman who was breathlessly stating her thanks.

"Thank the Maker you finally arrived, Lady Cassandra. I don't think we would have lasted much longer."

Cassandra gestured over to Amariel. "Thank our prisoner—she insisted we come this way."

"The prisoner? Then you..?" the woman said in surprise, trailing off.

"It was worth saving you if we could," Amariel said honestly.

"Then you have my sincere gratitude," the woman said, crossing her arm across her chest in a sincere salute.

"The way into the valley behind us is clear for the moment, go while you still can," Cassandra suggested, and without a word the three quickly made their way back through the mine. Solas leaned upon his staff.

"The path ahead seems to be clear of demons as well."

"Let's hurry before that changes," Cassandra reprimanded.

Down two long ladders they went before their path turned to a steep path downwards, and the wind picked up to an intensity where Amariel couldn't see through the snow shifting everywhere. However, she did start to see ruins, and once they passed a certain wall…

"The Temple of Sacred Ashes…" Cassandra said softly.

"What's left of it," Varric muttered.

Amariel looked around in horror at the bodies still alight with flame but charred remains, burned in place like dark, gruesome statues built from the ground themselves. The destruction was haunting, and what was left standing of the walls blocked the blinding wind enough that the picture was painfully clear.

There, right before them, was the massive rift that was causing the hole in the sky, one high above the ground and so massive…well, at least it's size wasn't as large as the hole in the sky, but it was large enough Amariel could begin to understand why the hole was so huge.

"You're here—thank the Maker!" came Leliana's increasingly familiar voice behind them, and they all turned as the woman rushed towards them. Cassandra was quick to take charge.

"Leliana, have your men take up positions around the temple." Leliana did so with only a nod, and Cassandra turned back to Amariel, who somehow managed to tear her eyes from the large green rift before her.

"This is your chance to end this, are you ready?" Cassandra asked. Amariel stood a little straighter.

"I'm assuming you have a plan to get me up there?" Amariel asked. How Solas began his answer threw her off, though his explanation eased her concerns just as quickly.

"No, this rift is the first and it is the key. Seal it and perhaps we seal the breach."

"Then let's find our way down—quickly," Cassandra stated, already moving away. They had hardly taken two steps when a new voice echoed around the ruins, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere at once…

"Now is the hour of our victory," it said. "Bring forth the sacrifice."

"What are we hearing?" Cassandra asked in an uncharacteristically frightened voice, though they all managed to move forward to reach their goal despite the strange occurrence. Solas was quick to explain.

"A guess? The person who created the breach."

They wound their way along the balcony the soldiers were spread out upon, looking for a way down. Amariel couldn't help but notice the red…crystals that grew from everything around them.

"You know this stuff is red lyrium, Seeker?" Varric whispered softly as they passed by more.

"I see it, Varric," Cassandra said tersely.

"But what's it doing _here_?"

"Magic could have drawn on lyrium beneath the temple and corrupted it," Solas explained solemnly.

Varric made a sound of disgust. "It's evil! Whatever you do, don't touch it!"

"Keep the sacrifice still," the deep voice from earlier stated, appearing briefly yet again.

"Someone, help me!" came a new voice, one that instantly had Cassandra's attention.

"That is Divine Justinia's voice!"

Amariel didn't say anything, only made her way down towards the breach as she finally found some stable stairs that led the way, tall shards of regular lyrium towering over her. Finally, she rounded the corner, and everyone collectively—warily—approached the rift.

"Someone, help me!" came the Divine's voice again.

"What's going on here?" came, to her immense surprise, Amariel's voice, just as her hand began to spark again.

"That was your voice," Cassandra said breathlessly from behind her. Amariel did not turn, trying not to react to the sparking of her hand. "Most Holy called out to you, but…"

There was a sudden flash of light, and everyone looked away for a few moments before the light subsided, and they turned to see a frightening display before them created from smoke. The Divine was held in place by this dark shadow with red eyes, and as they watched, Amariel herself appeared, seeming to run in on them.

"What's going on here?" Amariel saw herself ask.

"Run while you can! Warn them!" Justinia pled with her. The shadow raised a knotted hand and pointed it at Amariel.

"We have an intruder. Slay the elf."

With that, the smoke simply dissipated, and they were all left wondering what had just happened. There was a few moments of silence before Cassandra approached her, looking dumbfounded.

"You _were_ there…" she said breathlessly before launching predictably into the questions. "Who attacked? And the Divine, is she…was this vision true? What are we seeing?"

"I don't remember," Amariel repeated in a frustrated voice. Thankfully, Solas answered before Cassandra could continue with part of an answer.

"Echoes of what happened here…the Fade bleeds into this place. This rift is not sealed but it is closed, albeit temporarily. I believe that with the mark the rift can be reopened, and then sealed properly and safely. However, opening the rift will likely attract attention from the other side."

"That means demons, stand ready!" Cassandra commanded, her voice carrying through the space for all to hear. Solas stepped aside, and Amariel took that as her que to act. Slowly approaching the rift, Amariel waited until everyone was in place with bows drawn and swords ready before she raised her hand to the rift, allowing it to pull her towards it. Instead of closing like the others, it flashed and abruptly let her go, causing Amariel to stumble as something came out of the Fade right behind her. A terrifying roar sounded, and Amariel turned to stare in fear at the giant pride demon that had stepped out of the Fade.

"Now!" Cassandra commanded, and arrows immediately flew through the air with the men descended upon the pride demon. Amariel wasted no time in joining them despite how frightening it was.

It was best to get rid of the immediate threat before trying to seal the rift lest she turn her back on the creature and be slaughtered.

They tried attacking it head on for a few moments, but it was obvious that they were doing no damage within moments.

"We must weaken its defenses!" Cassandra shouted.

 _But how?_ Amariel thought wildly, looking around as she backed up to try and think. How did they weaken this terrifying creature?

Amariel's eyes fell upon the rift, and she bit her lip. Perhaps…if she managed to do a number on the breach, close it slightly, then it would cut the demon off from the Fade, weaken it just as they needed it to be…

Trusting the others to keep the demon off of her if she caught its attention, Amariel rushed towards the breach, shoving her hand towards it and feeling the familiar pull. Just as when the demon appeared, it ended early, but with the resulting boom came a triumphant cry from Cassandra.

"It's defenses are down! Attack it now!"

Feeling pride for discovering such a handy thing, Amariel threw herself back into the fray, coming up behind the demon and digging her daggers into its thighs before she leapt away for safety, attacking with both daggers from a different spot this time. Back and forth she went, chipping away at this demon with everyone else and finally finding a rythmn to their fight.

At least until Cassandra gave another warning cry.

"More are coming through!"

Immediately Amariel broke away from the pride demon, turning to find other smaller demons rapidly approaching with their eyes set on the soldiers. Amariel rushed forwards, engaging the first one that came too close with her dagger, lashing out at a second that tried to pass by her and engaging it too. Her heart pounding with fear and adrenaline, Amariel did her best to ignore the pride demon a few paces from her and keep the two demons she was fighting from attacking the others before she dealt with them. She was breathing heavily, but in a minute or two she had both of them down, shakily fishing a health potion from her pocket and downing it without hesitation, throwing the bottle aside to shatter upon the ground. She looked back at the pride demon to see it was fully swinging again with its defenses up, and that prompted her to disrupt the rift that was his source of power once more.

Now, as the demon fell to its knees and everyone swarmed to attack it again, Amariel could _feel_ that she had its attention.

Great.

She joined the fray despite the fact she knew she was its next target, moving at blinding speeds to get in as many hits as she could before it got on its feet again. The demon roared dangerously, rising up and immediately taking a swing at Amariel. She was sent flying through the air and hit the ruined wall hard, knocking the breath out of her and doing quite some damage. It advanced upon her, ignoring the others as they whittled away at it as it seemed to realize she was its biggest threat. Electricity sparked from its hand as it raised its clawed hand high in the air, roaring and bringing it down swiftly towards her.

 _It's the end_ , she thought in horror as she saw the claw rapidly approach.

A shadow fell over her, and the clawed hand was halted with a loud thud, whatever had come between them stumbling at the impact. Amariel was stunned to see Cassandra before her, shielding her from the demon, but she did not waste her opportunity. Breathing a quiet thanks to Cassandra, Amariel stumbled away, taking another health potion when she felt her injuries from the blow screaming in protest. While everyone else grouped together to hold the pride demon at bay, Amariel raced towards the rift, disrupting it as fast as she could and sending the demon to its knees once more.

Hopefully this time they could finish it off.

To Amariel's immense pride, she was the one who struck the blow that caused the pride demon to rear up with a bellow of furious agony and disappear in a swift flash of light. However, her rejoicing was short lived as Cassandra reminded her of the seriousness of the situation.

"Now! Seal the rift!" Cassandra shouted, and Amariel raced forward, shoving her hand towards the breach. "Do it!"

The wind grew to an alarmingly fast weight, and Amariel felt as if this rift was pulling her very soul from her body. The sound grew unbearably loud and then…there was a shockwave that sent Amariel flying backwards, a huge explosion that pulsed up to the sky taking the stream that connected rift and breach with it…

And then there was nothing, the only thing she was managed to see before losing complete consciousness being the light that remained in the sky.

* * *

When Amariel woke with a sudden start, she was shocked to find herself clothed in something else, as well as warm in a bed inside of a cabin. Shifting, Amariel groaned and placed a hand upon her head, trying to figure out how she got here and where she was.

Off to the side, there was a sudden crash, and Amariel looked up to see an elven woman before her with shock upon her face and a shattered, small crate at her feet.

"Oh! I didn't know you were awake, I swear!" the woman stated in a panicked tone. Amariel was confused as to why the woman was so frightened, but she had a more immediate thought on her mind and didn't move to comfort her.

"Is this another prison?" Amariel asked, regarding the woman warily. The woman seemed shocked.

"I-I, no, I mean…I don't think so…" she stuttered.

"Then where am I? Tell me," Amariel said in slight frustration. To her further amazement, the woman dropped to her knees and bowed to her, practically putting her face in the dirt. Amariel wanted to tell the woman to rise, but the woman was already spewing forth an explanation Amariel needed.

"I beg your forgiveness and blessing! I am but a humble servant. You are back in Haven, My Lady. They say you saved us. The breach stopped growing, just like the mark on your hand. It's all anyone has talked about for the last three days!"

As she spoke, Amariel looked down at the mark on her hand, a mark that glowed and sparked slightly but didn't hurt as much, and sure enough had not spread, frozen in a jagged green glow across her skin. Still, she was confused. "So you're saying they're…happy with me?" Amariel asked.

"I'm only saying what I heard! I didn't mean anything by it. I'm sure Lady Cassandra will want to know you've awakened. At once she said!"

"And where is she?" Amariel asked, rising from her bed.

"In the Chantry with the Chancellor. At once she said!"

And with that, before Amariel could ask any other questions, the woman fled without hesitation. With a sigh, Amariel started to poke around the room until she found her actual clothes cleaned and repaired. She pulled them on, then took a moment to ruffle through what the woman had dropped.

Just some elfroot and dawn lotus. Still, it might come in handy…

Once Amariel was sure there was nothing else she could find in the cabin, she hesitantly made her way to the door and stepped outside.

To her shock, there were two armed guards standing ready at attention with salutes, and people were crowding the path in front of her house just behind them, craning their necks to get a good look at her.

How…how had things changed so quickly? Didn't they blame her for Justinia's death?

As she slowly made her way down the path, people parted, and Amariel managed to catch a few whispers that only confused her further.

"That's her, that's the Herald of Andraste!"

"They said when she came out of the Fade, Andraste herself was watching over her!"

"Hush! We shouldn't disturb her!"

"Did Lady Cassandra have her in chains? I thought Seekers knew everything!"

"It's complicated."

"It wasn't complicated—Andraste herself blessed her!"

"That's her! She stopped the breach from getting any bigger!"

 _Herald of Andraste? Blessed by Andraste? What happened while I was unconscious?_ Amariel wondered as she made her way up the steps, past tents, and past more people standing at salute, even people who weren't soldiers.

 _Why?_

There was just more gossip as she made her way to the Chantry of the same thing, with none of it making any sense, so she paid it no heed. Cautiously, Amariel made her way into the Chantry, where raised voices quickly wafted towards her. Unsurprisingly, she was the topic of the heated debate.

"Have you gone completely mad? She should be taken to Val Royale immediately to be tried by whoever becomes divine!" came the voice of Roderick. Amariel soured—she really didn't like that man.

Deciding she'd hear truth more if she didn't enter, Amariel lingered outside so they didn't know she could hear them.

"I do not believe she is guilty!" came Cassandra's firm voice.

"The elf _failed,_ Seeker, the breach is still in the sky! For all you know she intended it this way."

"I do not believe that!"

"That is not for you to decide. Your duty is to serve the Chan—"

"My duty is to serve the principles upon which the Chantry is founded upon, Chancellor, as is yours!"

Deciding now was probably the best time to enter, Amariel opened the door, now prepared for what kind of a mess she was walking into and holding herself high.

At least everyone wasn't condemning her anymore. Just…some people.

"Chain her!" Roderick said immediately. "I want her prepared for travel to the capital for trial."

"Disregard that and leave us," Cassandra told the guards tersely.

"You walk a dangerous line, Seeker," Roderick said coldly. Cassandra wasted no time getting in his face.

"The breach is stable but it is still a threat. I will not ignore it."

Amariel looked between them, trying to make sense of everything that was happening. "So I'm still a suspect, even after what we just did?"

"You absolutely are," Roderick snarled.

"No, she is not," Cassandra snapped back.

"Someone was behind the explosion at the temple. Someone the Most Holy did not expect. Perhaps they died with the others—or have allies who yet live," Leliana stated, appearing from the shadows and staring coolly at Roderick.

"I am a suspect?" Rocerick asked incredulously.

"You and many others," Cassandra said indifferently. "I heard the voices at the temple. The Divine called to her for help."

"So her survival, that thing on her hand—all a coincidence?"

"Providence. The Maker sent her to us in our darkest hour."

Amariel blinked, raising her hands. "You realize I'm an elf—a Dalish Elf."

"I have not forgotten," Cassandra scolded her. "No matter what you are or what you believe you are exactly what we needed when we needed it."

"The breach remains, and your mark is still our only hope of closing it," Leliana added.

"This is not for you to decide," Roderick said coldly. Cassandra, apparently fed up, turned and grabbed a heavy book, slamming it against the table.

"You know what this is, Chancellor? A writ from the Divine, granting us the authority to act. We will close the breach, we will find those responsible, and we will restore order—with or without your approval!"

Roderick only glared at them and said nothing before he turned and stormed out of the room in a fury. Cassandra waved him off, and Leliana stepped forward.

"This is the divine's directive. Rebuild the Inquisition of old, find those who will stand against the chaos. We are not ready, we have no numbers, and now no Chantry support!"

"But we have no choice," Cassandra said softly, turning to Amariel. "We must act now with you at our side."

"If you're truly trying to restore order…" Amariel said slowly.

"That is the plan," Leliana reassured her.

"Help us fix this before it's too late," Cassandra pled, stepping closer. Amariel debated, holding the woman's gaze. If she said yes…she was committed, no matter what came, and she knew everything would change…more than it already had.

Deciding she couldn't just sit around and do nothing even if there were clearly people who hated her, Amariel nodded, reaching out and giving Cassandra's hand a firm shake.

Amariel never thought she'd see such a wide smile cross that woman's face.

* * *

The next few days passed in a blur for Amariel. Preparations were made furiously, with Leliana and Cassandra reaching out to two others to help make preparations—Josephene and Cullen. Despite the fact they were now in Haven and helping to bring the Inquisition about, Amariel hadn't really spoken to them much—she hadn't had time. There wasn't really anything for Amariel to do until the four got the Inquisition up and running. Amariel did know the four met constantly, and she remembered the day Leliana sent her ravens to make contact with those who could potentially help. Roderick was openly angry that they had formed the Inquisition, and that it was starting to make ground. Soldiers came and were being trained, the people of Haven and some from outside of Haven came to help, weapons were made, the symbol of the Inquisition, an eye, sword, and sunburst, now hung on banners.

And the breach remained high up in the sky, a reminder for their goal every time they stepped outdoors.

Now Amariel made her way into the Chantry not for the first time recently, but at least for the first official meeting where the Inquisition would truly begin to act. She was understandably nervous, but she didn't let it show, tugging at the gloves of her new clothes. She'd been outfitted with new clothes and with personalized armor that she appreciated admittedly more than her previous clothes. Her hair was in its usual intricate braid and bun once more, and she marched with a purpose that wasn't faked.

Now she did have a purpose.

Cassandra met her at the door, and as they walked inside, Amariel couldn't help but mess with the hand that held her mark. Cassandra seemed to notice this.

"Does it trouble you?" she asked, and they momentarily came to a stop.

"Not really."

"What's important is that your mark is now stable as is the breach. You've given us time, and Solas believes a second attempt might succeed—provided the mark has more power. The same level of power used to open the breach in the first place. That is not easy to come by."

Amariel arched an eyebrow at her. "What harm can there be in powering something up we barely understand?"

Cassandra cracked a small half smile. "Hold on to that sense of humor."

* * *

When Cassandra walked in with the fifth member of their council, Commander Cullen Rutherford had to do a double take. Of course he'd seen her on occasion here and there throughout Haven, but they hadn't really met face to face yet—they had basically been in different places at all times.

She was not what he had expected.

The woman—Amariel—had a fair complexion with lightly tanned skin, rich, long blonde hair pulled into an intricate braid that formed a bun in the back. Her elven ears were small, and the pointed tips that came at eye level were difficult to spot even for Cullen, even with her hair pulled back. Her cheekbones were high and well defined, just enough to make her appear even more elegant than she already was. Furthermore, of her elegant features were the thin, neat eyebrows that were slightly raised at all times, it would seem, helping her appear alert and ready. She possessed a strong, firm chin and jawline, sharp just as with her cheekbones. Her lips…a rich, deep red—like roses with a wet shine that caused those lips to beg attention. But what really stuck out to him were her eyes; sharp and narrow, almond-shaped, icy blue eyes. She had thick, long lashes that only accented the entrancing mystique of her eyes. As if to help bring out her piercing eyes, she also had a simple, elegant facial tattoo, the vibrant red pale enough not to clash with her complexion but sharp enough to bring out her eyes. She excelled at manipulating her cosmetics to bring out her features, her eyeshadow ranging from a dark blood red against her black eyeliner to a pale pink by her eyebrows. Her soft blush of barely visible red was placed to make her cheekbones seem sharper. She was also faintly scarred upon the face, as he was, though in his opinion it complimented her features more so. There were two scars, one in a loose crescent shape over her right eye, and one small scar over her lip just like he had, except hers was on the left side.

A truly stunning woman.

"May I present Commander Cullen, leader of the Inquisitions forces," Cassandra introduced him, and Cullen couldn't help but give Amariel one good look over from top to bottom as he responded.

"Such as they are. We lost many soldiers in the valley, and I fear many more before this is through," Cullen said somberly. Amariel inclined her head at his words, appearing to take them to heart as Cassandra moved on with the introductions, even as Amariel's eyes lingered on Cullen just a few split seconds.

"This is Lady Josephine Montilyet, our Ambassador and Chief Diplomat."

"Andaran Atish'an," Josephine told Amariel. The woman's eyes lit up, and she smiled at Josephine.

"You speak elven!" she said excitedly. Josephine laughed.

"You just heard the entirety of it, I'm afraid."

"And of course you know Sister Leliana," Cassandra added, moving rather quickly through the introductions. She was clearly ready to get to business.

They had much to do.

"My position here involves a degree of…" Leliana stated, searching for the right words.

"She is our spymaster," Cassandra said simply.

"Yes, tactfully put, Cassandra."

Amariel arched her eyebrows, and Cullen wondered what was going through her mind to garner such a reaction. Doubltess she had many questions, though she didn't look lost.

"That's an impressive bunch of titles," she quipped.

Well, he hadn't been expecting humor. At least if she brought that to every meeting they wouldn't be so tense.

"I mentioned your mark needs more power to close the breach for good," Cassandra explained to Amariel.

"Which means we must approach the rebel mages for help," Leliana jumped in.

"And I still disagree," Cullen cut in quickly and firmly. "The Templars could serve just as well."

"We need power, Commander. Enough magic poured into that mark—" Cassandra started to explain with a sigh before Cullen interrupted her.

"Might destroy us all," Cullen stated seriously. "Templers could suppress the breach, weaken it so—"

Now it was Cullen's turn to be cut off, this time by Leliana.

"Pure speculation," she said simply.

"I was a Templar. I know what they're capable of," Cullen said quietly and seriously. Amariel watched the entire exchange actively, but said nothing. Instead, it was Josephine who spoke up.

"Unfortunately, neither group will even speak to us yet. The Chantry has denounced the Inquisition—and you specifically," Josephine added, turning to Amariel. The woman shifted, looking annoyed but yet not as offended as Cullen expected.

Then again, perhaps it was harder to offend her since she was used to harsh treatments from humans. At least Cullen assumed that's what most of her interaction with their race had been.

"That didn't take long," Amariel stated sourly.

"Shouldn't they be busy arguing over who should become Divine?" Cullen asked, his voice only a little less annoyed than Amariel's.

"Some are calling you, a Dalish Elf, the Herald of Andraste. That frightens the Chantry. The remaining clerics have declared it blasphemy, and we heretics for harboring you," Josephine explained to Amariel.

"Chancellor Roderick's doing, no doubt," Cassandra stated sourly, and a look of displeasure appeared in Amariel's eyes for a brief moment.

"It limits our options. Approaching the mages or Templars for help is currently out of the question," Josephine said simply. A frown tugged at Amariel's mouth as she thought of something.

"Will the Chantry attack us?" she asked in concern.

He understood her concern, but at the same time he had to repress a snort at the thought. "With what? They have only words at their disposal."

"And yet they may bury us with them," Josephine finished lightly.

"There is something we can do," Leliana said, stepping in. "A Chantry cleric by the name Mother Giselle has asked to speak to you. She is not far, and knows those involved far better than I. Her assistance could be invaluable."

"I'll see what she has to say," Amariel said promptly. It seemed she was ready to do something more than wait around.

"You will find Mother Giselle tending to the wounded in the Hinterlands near Redcliffe," Leliana informed Amariel.

"Look for other opportunities to expand the Inquisition's influence while you're there," Cullen added seriously. Maker knew they were going to need it.

"We need agents to extend our reach beyond this valley, and you're better suited than anyone to recruit them," Leliana finished.

"I'll keep my eyes open," Amariel promised.

"In the meantime let's think of other options. I won't leave this all to the Herald," Cassandra stated, placing a scouting marker where the Hinterlands were on the war table before they all collectively left the war room.

As Amariel left ahead of him, Cullen allowed himself to watch her do so, his curiosity of the woman officially piqued.


	2. Chapter 2: Elven Fire

_**Next Chapter, yaaaaaayyyyy! And some more original stuff. And I like writing Letters/Reports from Amariel so we may get more of those in the future :D**_

 _ **Please Review, Share, and as always...**_

 _ **Enjoy!**_

* * *

Amariel seemed to burn through the Hinterlands like wildfire.

Understandably, they received no word as to the proceedings in the Hinterlands, awaiting the first report of the progress being made by Amariel, Solas, Varric, and Cassandra. However, once that first report came, they didn't stop. They now had a healthy stock of reports of five camps established with perhaps one more to have a sound foothold in the Hinterlands, three rifts closed, the Crossroads secured and food provided for the refugees, bandits cleared out of the East Road, an entire cult devoted to spreading the word of the Inquisition, received plenty of weapons and supplies she'd passed off to their traders and merchants, and all they needed to do for Horse Master Dennet to join their cause was to build three watchtowers in the Hinterlands.

Several of those feats made Cullen's job regarding the Hinterlands easier, and he was admittedly impressed with the speed at which Amariel had acted. She had returned to Haven earlier today, and he was sure that whenever she went back to the Hinterlands to secure the deal with Dennet she would make even greater strides. At present, Amariel was a little ways away from the soldier's training grounds with their smith, probably making upgrades to her armor and weapons after her first time out in the field. Cullen could catch a glimpse of her every now and then even from this distance, though he reminded himself to keep his eyes on the new recruits. Maker help them all, these men were going to take some time and work to get into shape…

Amariel emerged from the smith for a few minutes, a bow at the ready instead of her daggers, though before Cullen could wonder what she was up to the tell-tale sound of squealing nugs caught his ears and he shook his head.

Either it was target practice or she wanted the leather for armor.

Cullen turned his attention away from Amariel entirely after that, finding himself needed on the other side of Haven, though he was sure that whatever she was doing it was going to be productive—she seemed like that kind of a person.

Unfortunately, the issue that required his attention was basically a riot.

"Your kind killed the Most Holy!" a once-Templar was currently sneering at a mage.

"Lies! Your kind let her die!" the mage snapped back.

"Shut your mouth, mage!" the other man roared, preparing to draw his sword. That was when Cullen arrived to step in.

"Enough!" he ordered, stepping between them and holding them apart from one another.

"Knight-Captain," the man acknowledged, hand still on his sword.

"That is not my title," Cullen corrected him seriously. "We are _not_ Templars any longer—we are _all_ part of the Inquisition," he stated, gesturing to both sides with a scolding finger.

"And what does that mean, exactly?" came a voice Cullen really did not want to hear right now, though he still turned to face Roderick, as unpleasant the sight of him was at the moment.

"Back already, Chancellor? Haven't you done enough?"

"I'm curious, Commander, as to how your Inquisition and it's "Herald" will restore order as you've promised," Roderick said loudly, stepping into view of everyone gathered there.

"Of course you are," Cullen muttered bitterly before he turned to the crowd. "Back to your duties, all of you."

As the people dispersed, Cullen noticed Amariel approaching Roderick and him, and he wondered just how much of that she had seen. At the curious look on the woman's face, Cullen moved to explain what had just happened.

"Mages and Templars were already at war. Now they're blaming each other for the Divine's death," Cullen said with a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Which is why we require a _proper_ authority to guide them back to order," Roderick said in a voice full of vain pride.

"Who, you? Random clerics who weren't important enough to be at the Conclave?" Cullen scoffed.

"The Rebel Inquisition and its so-called "Herald of Andraste"? I think not," Roderick sniffed. Amariel looked rather miffed at the Chancellor—Cullen had the feeling Roderick was going to bring that out of her repeatedly.

"If the proper authority hadn't completely failed the Conclave wouldn't have been needed," Amariel said flatly, gaze unwavering from Roderick.

"So you suggest I blame the Chantry, and exalt a murderer? What of justice?" Roderick said in mock incredulity.

"That won't help restore Order in the here and now," Cullen stated through grit teeth. Roderick gave a scoffing laugh.

"Order will never be restored so long as this rebellion is allowed to fester."

"Remind me why you're allowing the chancellor to stay?" Amariel asked, not even bothering to hide her annoyance with the man.

"Clearly your Templar knows where to draw the line," Roderick sneered.

"He's toothless. There's no point turning him into a martyr simply because he runs at the mouth. The Chancellor's a good indicator of what to expect in Val Royeaux, however," Cullen told her, ignoring Roderick this time. Amariel sighed.

"Well, let's hope we find solutions, and not a cathedral full of chancellors," Amariel remarked, and Cullen had to hold back a smile.

"The stuff of nightmares," he couldn't help but add.

"Mock if you will, I'm sure the Maker is less amused," Roderick sniffed. Amariel shook her head.

"Well, I have more important things to do than listen to him, so I'll just head inside," Amariel said with a roll of her eyes.

"Yes, you might as well. I assume I'll see you in a few minutes?" Cullen asked. She was probably ready to summon the war council.

"A few, yes. I just need to talk to a few people first," Amariel said with a smile.

"I'll let you get to it, then," Cullen said, watching as she disappeared once more.

* * *

After walking in on Josephine with the marquis and turning in research for Minaeve, Amariel called the war council together, with Josephine and Cullen arrive first, then Lelianna, and Cassandra not long behind. The five of them all gathered around the table, though it seemed Amariel already knew what she wanted to do.

"All we need do for Dennet to lend his horses to the Inquisition is build the watchtowers he requested. I've already taken care of the other tasks he requested be done before he lends his assistance," Amariel stated, taking in the several markers that were now on the table indicating things that needed to be done.

"There are nobles near Redcliffe who will gladly help the inquisition if we make them an offer," Josephine suggested. Cullen offered her an alternative Amariel liked much better.

"My soldiers will have those towers up in short order," he said confidently, shifting in place and putting his hand over his sword.

"I'd rather not have to carry out a favor for a noble—I'll leave the watchtowers to your men, then, Commander," Amariel said.

"Of course," Cullen agreed.

Amariel noticed the placement of one of their markers and looked up curiously. "Has there been contact from my clan?"

"Yes, Clan Lavellan heard of your, ah, earlier imprisonment and would like some form of contact to be made to ease their concerns and know that you are all right and here of your own free will," Josephine informed her. "I believe that your people must be approached carefully. One of our elven scribes could deliver a message and share news of the Inquisition's fair treatment."

Amariel inclined her head, turning to face Lelianna as she spoke up. "The Dalish respect deeds, not words. Let my elven agents deliver something the clan needs as a show of good faith."

Amariel considered for a moment, then nodded to Josephine. "I agree with Josephine. I feel like if we send a gift they may think it an attempt as a bribe."

"Also, Varric asked for help in locating an author that's evaded the Merchant's Guild for a few years. The Crows might be a better choice for investigating him and could get Varric the results he's been looking for," Leliana added once the marker over the Lavellan Clan territory was switched out to show that actions were in progress.

"If he requires the help," Amariel said simply. Leliana nodded.

"I'll see what I can find, then."

At that moment, Amariel noticed that there was, in fact, a marker over Val Royeaux. "Are we really going to send me to Val Royeaux then?" she asked, pointing to the marker.

Josephine smiled, looking to the other advisors—perhaps she was the one who put the marker down. "Having the Herald address the clerics is not a terrible idea."

"You can't be serious," Cullen stated, sounding rather astounded.

"Mother Giselle isn't wrong: at the moment, the Chantry's only strength is that they are united in opinion," Josephine replied easily. Cullen rubbed his neck out of exasperation, turning away.

"And we should ignore the danger to the Herald?" Leliana asked calmly.

"Let's ask her," Josephine said smoothly, and all eyes turned to Amariel again.

"I'm more concerned this won't actually solve any problems," Amariel said, allowing herself to voice her concerns.

"I agree. It just lends credence to the idea that we should _care_ what the Chantry says," Cullen stated.

"I will go with her," Cassandra said calmly, stepping forward. "Mother Giselle said she could provide us with names; use them."

"But why? This is nothing but a—" Leliana started to say, but Cassandra cut her off.

"What choice do we have, Leliana? Right now we can't approach anyone for help with the breach. Use what influence we have to call the clerics together. Once they are ready, we will see this through," Cassandra finished. Amariel looked between them all, then sighed.

"I suppose I'm headed to Val Royeaux, then. If the watchtowers are finished before I return I don't mind making a slight detour to the Hinterlands to seal the deal with Dennet," Amariel stated.

"Safe travels, then. And let's hope the Maker will at least keep them from trying to attack you while you're there," Cullen said with a sigh.

"I'll be ready if they do," Amariel said with a smile, and with that, the meeting convened.

* * *

Again, Amariel exceeded Cullen's expectations.

When the woman returned from Val Royeaux, she had a new member of her party, and a well respected member as well. Of course, Cullen had known that Grand Enchanter Vivanne might be joining their cause because of the report sent ahead with the scout, though to actually see her arrive…

As he'd been nearby and—for the moment—unoccupied, Cullen took the opportunity to speak with Amariel.

"You go to Val Royeaux to clash with the Chantry and come back with a new, vital agent, a new recruit to the cause, and another potential ally I assume you will be investigating soon," Cullen stated with a smile as he helped Amariel dismount her horse. It was sort of amusing to see such a small and petite woman riding such a large animal—what had Dennet been thinking giving her such a large horse?

"I didn't expect it either—it just sort of happened," Amariel returned, taking the reins of the horse.

"I dare say you have a hidden talent for this, Lady Lavellan," Cullen remarked, his smile growing slightly.

"I'm only taking the opportunities when I see them," Amariel returned.

"Commander!" came a call from back by the training camps, and Cullen gave an inward sigh.

"Duty calls. If you'll excuse me, I must go," Cullen excused himself politely.

"I'll talk to you later then, Commander," Amariel said with a smile and a tilt of the head, and with that she made her way to the pen where her horse was kept, Cullen making his way to the recruits in the opposite direction.

* * *

Not long after that initial conversation, Amariel reappeared after enough time had passed for her to get cleaned up and get a good hot meal. Unfortunately, Cullen didn't initially see her approaching as he was in the middle of scolding one of the recruits.

"You there! There's a shield in your hand. Block with it. If this man were your enemy, you'd be dead," he said in exasperation, turning to the lieutenant beside him. "Lieutenant, don't hold back. The recruits must prepare for a real fight, not a practice one."

"Yes, Commander!" he said, snapping a salute before leaving. That was when Amariel approached him, and he decided to address her lest she think he was ignoring her.

"We've received a number of recruits – locals from Haven and some pilgrims. None made _quite_ the entrance you did," Cullen remarked, leaving the statement open for a joke. Amariel didn't disappoint.

"At least I got everyone's attention," Amariel said with a slight smirk, straightening.

"That you did," he said with a smile, then he fell into step, Amariel beside him. "I was recruited to the Inquisition in Kirkwall, myself. I was there during the mage uprising – I saw firsthand the devastation it caused."

Cullen saw Amariel move aside out of the corner of his eyes, allowing a soldier with a report in hand to approach Cullen. "Ser!" the soldier stated, handing Cullen the report before leaving.

"Cassandra sought a solution. When she offered me a position, I left the templars to join her cause. Now it seems we face something far worse," Cullen finished, looking over the report that gave a brief overview of the current conditions in the Hinterlands.

"You left the Templars for this. You believe the Inquisition can work?" Amariel asked curiously.

"I do. The Chantry lost control of both Templars and mages. Now they argue over a new Divine while the Breach remains. The Inquisition could act when the Chantry cannot. Our followers would be part of that. There's so much we can–" Cullen realized he was babbling passionately and shook his head, allowing a small, short laugh to slip through. "Forgive me. I doubt you came here for a lecture."

"No, but if you have one prepared I'd love to hear it," Amariel stated happily. Cullen couldn't help but laugh.

"Another time perhaps," he said, giving her a smile which Amariel returned with a dazzling one of her own.

Suddenly the thought occurred to him: _Wait, was she flirting?_

Realizing he'd let a silence linger, Cullen tried to find something to say. "I, ah…" he started, clearing his throat. "There's still a lot of work ahead…"

At that moment, another soldier approached. "Commander! Ser Rylen has a report on our supply lines."

Cullen gave Amariel a sly smile. "As I was saying," he said pointedly before following the scout away. Still, the thought crossed his mind again even as the scout gave his report.

 _Had she been flirting?_

* * *

"Its good you've returned. We heard of your encounter."

After taking care of their regular duties, the council all met together in the Chantry, with Cassandra and Amariel arriving last. As Josephine finished speaking, Cullen and Leliana approached Amariel and Cassandra.

"You heard?" Cassandra asked, and by the guilty look on Amariel's face Cullen suspected she'd forgot to mention either the report sent ahead or her brief conversation with him.

"My agents in the city sent word ahead, of course," Leliana said simply.

"It's a shame the Templars have abandoned their senses as well as the capital," Cullen added, folding his arms over his chest.

"We had to do something, and now we have an opportunity," Amariel said confidently, walking forward and prompting everyone to do so as well.

"Yes, and we have the opening we need to approach the Templars and the mages," Josephine stated.

"Do we?" Cassandra asked. "Lord Seeker Lucius is not the man I remember…"

"True, he has taken the order somewhere, but to do what? My reports have been very odd," Leliana mused.

"We must look into it," Cullen said in determination. "I'm certain not everyone in the order will support the Lord Seeker."

"Or the Herald could simply go to meet the mages in Redcliffe, instead," Josephine suggested calmly.

"You think the mage rebellion is more united? It could be ten times worse!" Cullen protested. Amariel sighed.

"I can see both sides. True, the Templars definitely have those who don't support Lucius—we saw that at Val Royeaux. Though there will be resistance to get to them. Still, since what we're dealing with is magic it may be sensible to go meet with the mages," Amariel was silent for a few heartbeats, thinking it over. "I could at least find out what the mages want," Amariel suggested.

"No doubt what they've always wanted: support for their cause," Cassandra said shortly.

"We shouldn't discount Redcliffe—the mages may be worth the risk," Josephine argued politely.

"They are powerful ambassador, but more desperate than you realize," Cassandra scolded her.

"You think the invitation could be some kind of trap?" Amariel asked Cassandra.

"If some among the rebel mages were responsible for what happened at the conclave…" Cassandra said leadingly.

"The same could be said about the Templars," Josephine argued. Cullen decided that now was the time to step in.

"True enough. Right now I'm not certain we have enough influence to approach the order safely."

"Then the inquisition needs agents in more places. That's something you can help with," Cassandra said flatly.

"In the meantime we should consider other options," Josephine stated, and they all broke away to attend their own duties. Cullen, however, lingered when he noticed Leliana was approaching Amariel.

"There is one other matter," Leliana said carefully. "Several months ago, the Grey Wardens of Ferelden vanished. I sent word to those in Orlais, but they have also disappeared. Ordinarily I wouldn't even consider the idea they're involved in all this, but the timing is…curious."

"That does sound odd, I agree," Amariel said, her tone worried.

"The others have disregarded my suspicion, but I cannot ignore it. Two days ago, my agents in the Hinterlands heard news of a Grey Warden by the name of Blackwall. If you have the opportunity, please seek him out. Perhaps he can put my mind at ease."

"And if he can't?"

"Then there may be more going on than we thought," Leliana finished seriously. Amariel gave a small nod.

"All right, Leliana. When I go back to the Hinterlands I'll be sure to look for him while I'm doing my other duties. Hopefully I can find some answers for you," Amariel finished.

"Thank you," Leliana said graciously, and with that the woman left Amariel to herself.

Once Leliana left, Cullen slipped away into the war room, deciding from the conversation that they were probably going to have a war meeting anyway.

Besides, he had a report to give on the watchtowers, as he'd received word they were finished.

* * *

Amariel entered the room after only a few minutes, her gaze instantly falling on Cullen. He did his best not to stare, instead gazing intently at the report before him until Amariel cleared her throat, calling his full attention to her.

"I just wanted you to know that I am taking your proposal over the Templars seriously," Amariel said carefully. "In case it appears I'm ignoring it. I understand your position on the matter and…well, I haven't ruled them out yet. It's just a difficult decision to make."

Cullen was taken aback for a few heartbeats, though he straightened and rested his hand upon his sword. "Of course…it is a decision that will rule the direction the Inquisition takes."

"Hence my…caution, on the matter. I want to safely explore both options before I make a final decision. Again, I just wanted you to know that I am listening," Amariel told him, holding his gaze. Their conversation was ended there, however, as Josephine entered, Leliana and Cassandra arriving not long after her and signaling the beginning of the meeting.

Once everyone was there, Amariel shifted into a much more serious position, bracing her hands against the war table as reports began to be read. The watchtowers had been built, though Cullen added a request that something be set up in Haven for more soldiers to train since there was limited space in the Hinterlands. The Lavellan clan had been pleased with the contact made by Josephine's people and had promised to lend aid if so needed, and Varric's writer…friend…had been found in Kirkwall. Some good news, even if it appeared to be small.

There was some ridiculous rumor going around about the Inquisition holding a living Divine Justinia and causing all the chaos—shared by their new accomplice Vivienne—that Amariel quickly passed onto Josephine as recommended by Vivienne. Leliana was tasked with sending a few of her people to search for relics from the Cult of Andraste during the Fifth Blight, and when it came to the matter of collecting coin, Amariel agreed with Cullen that the soldiers could do honest work like protecting caravans for the needed funds.

That left Amariel, and she already had a long list.

"I'll go back to the Hinterlands to seal the deal with Dennet," Amariel said, casting a quick glance to Leliana that Cullen caught but did not comment on. "Also I should investigate what this Red Jenny wants, just in case she really is a possible ally. And Cullen, we should have men sent to scout for those missing soldiers in the marshes. It bothers me…"

"I'll have a report by the time you return," Cullen promised.

"I look forward to it," Amariel said with a smile, one Cullen returned even if the gesture was slight. With that, they adjourned once more, and Amariel went to gather her companions while Cullen went back to the training grounds to oversee their recruits. Silently, he watched as Amariel, Solas, Verric, and Cassandra set out on foot in the direction of the Hinterlands, and for a few moments Cullen wondered why she was travelling on foot when she had a horse, one that was even walking beside her with the group's gear upon it.

The thought occurred to him that she may believe it unfair to ride when her companions had to walk, and was waiting until the Inquisition had horses to ride anywhere. His opinion of the woman went up a few notches at the possible explanation, and he turned his eyes back to the task before him, calling up a lieutenant to put together the search party for the Marshes.

* * *

The first report that came was one regarding incoming horses, stable hands, and even Dennet himself for the Inquisition—welcome news. It was a bonus to hear that Dennet's man Brom was sending weapons to those at the crossroads. Not long after came a report that was from Amariel herself, and in the form of a well thought out letter.

 _We found the Grey Warden Blackwall on the lake that was just outside one of our camps. To think he'd been so close all along! When we found him he was training a few of the local farmers so that they could defend their families against the bandits in the area. After a brief skirmish with some of the said bandits, I managed to convince him to join our cause. He'll be staying with our party for a little while—Varric is making his way back to Haven with a full report on what Blackwall could tell us about the current state of the Wardens now while we ride to Val Royeaux to investigate Red Jenny. We will return after our investigation there._

 _After what I've seen, I believe Blackwall to be a valuable ally and am glad that he has decided to join us._

 _Also, we closed another rift that was just west of where Blackwall had been staying—the Hinterlands are one rift safer now._

 _Amariel Lavellan_

* * *

Amariel's next letter thankfully came before the arrival of its subject, and Cullen was glad he was alone when he read it because he was both astounded and amused to the point of laughter.

 _Upon arriving at the meeting point in Val Royeaux we arrived to find a small group of mercenaries and a noble who had hired them to kill me. After taking care of the guards our, ah…informant…took care of the noble…whoever he was. I didn't exactly get a chance to even figure out a first name. Our Red Jenny's name is Sera, and she's part of a network of rogues that work against corrupt nobles. I think. She's a little…odd, and it was hard to understand her between the repetitive talk about breeches, the random senseless ramblings, and the frequent blah's punctuating her sentences. Still, it's obvious that she's enthusiastic to help our cause, as well as her friends, so I allowed her to join. She's headed to Haven._

 _Be careful, she's…well…odd would be putting it nicely. You'll understand when you meet her._

 _We're lingering in Val Royeaux to make a few purchases before we head back. And when Sera arrives point her in the direction of the merchant. She's got some things to sell because she stole some of the guards'…well…never mind._

 _Amariel Lavellan_

However, Cullen wasn't quite so amused when Sera did arrive. Amariel had hinted at the girl's oddities, but he felt like even if Amariel had been blunt about Sera, he would not have been prepared.

Just a few days and the elven woman was driving him mad every chance she got.

* * *

Thankfully, Amariel arrived shortly after Sera, which meant that Cullen would have a chance to escape the girl's madness with the meetings Amariel would doubtlessly call and hopefully a few more conversations between the two of them.

Anything to escape Sera's rambling jabs and infuriating pranks, things that were already far too fluent when she was present.

Why had Amariel taken the girl's offer to join the Inquisition?

When Amariel first arrived, Cullen expected her to go to the stables and smith as usual, though to his surprise he saw her go right past the stables and smith and go right for a lone figure with black hair and a beard first.

Blackwall, the warden she'd recruited from Haven.

Cullen felt a twinge of something he couldn't quite put a finger on—unease? Distrust? Maker preserve him, perhaps even jealousy if he was being honest with himself—though instead of trying to figure out just what that something was, he shoved the feeling aside and focused on the men before him.

Amariel was with Blackwall for a while, and after lingering by the stables long enough to look at a new horse—one that was smaller, Cullen noted with some slight amusement—she disappeared into the main part of Haven. Figuring she was probably busy, Cullen didn't pay the gates much attention—she'd probably be there for a while.

As it was, he was surprised when he heard someone clear their throat behind him and turned to find Amariel right behind him, smiling slightly at him.

"I heard Sera's been causing a ruckus here already," she said sheepishly. Cullen sighed in exasperation.

"Don't even get me started. Where did you even find her?"

Amariel laughed. "You read my reports—she found me. At least you weren't there dealing with her then. It was hard enough to get a name from her. But I feel like she'll be of help—when she's making sense, of course."

"I hope you're right," he said with a shake of his head. "Otherwise I don't think I'll be able to put up with the ridiculous tricks."

Amariel chuckled lightly, and a comfortable silence lingered for a few moments before she spoke again.

"I was thinking that I should get to know you better; we are working together, after all."

Oh, was that a question always to be taken cautiously. "What would you like to know?" Cullen asked calmly.

"All right…where are you from?" Amariel asked. A simple enough question.

"I grew up in Ferelden, near Honneleath. I was transferred to Kirkwall shortly after the Blight. This is the first I've returned in almost ten years," Cullen said automatically.

"You haven't seen Ferelden in ten years? Are you glad to be back?"

"I was not sorry to leave at the time. I did not expect to return. Now—between the Divine's murder and the breach—I've arrived to find nothing but chaos," Cullen stated with a sigh.

"You were at Ferelden during the Blight? Did you fight darkspawn?" Amariel asked in innocent curiosity.

"No, I was stationed at Ferelden's Circle Tower. The circle had troubles of its own. I…" Cullen trailed off, hesitating as he fought back the horrendous memories that pushed at the surface. "…remained there during the Blight."

Amariel caught the hesitation, apparently deciding to press a little further much to Cullen's unease. "What happened at the Circle Tower?"

"Few who survived the Blight have fond memories of that time. I would prefer not to speak of it," Cullen said carefully, his words measured. Amariel looked slightly…ashamed.

"I'm sorry, that was insensitive of me—my curiosity sometimes gets the best of me," Amariel said, hurrying on to a different question before Cullen could reassure her that she'd done nothing wrong. "What was Kirkwall like?"

Unknown to her she hadn't left the uncomfortable waters of his past, though this one was easier to answer than that of Ferelden. "While I was there Qunari occupied and then attacked the city, the Viscount's murder caused political unrest…relations between mages and Templars fell apart, an apostate blew up the Chantry, the Knight-Commander went mad…Other than that, it was fine."

Amariel smiled at his sarcasm near the end, though didn't comment and decided to dig a little deeper. "What happened between Kirkwall's mages and Templars?"

"You were at the conclave—you must have heard people speak of it," Cullen tried to say to get out of answering the question—she was digging deep.

"Yes, but you were there—that tends to be a more reliable account," Amariel pointed out. Cullen sighed. It looked like he wouldn't get out of answering this.

"There was tension between mages and Templars long before I arrived. Eventually, it reached a breaking point. There was fighting in the streets, Abominations began killing both sides—it was a nightmare," Cullen said with a shake of his head. Of course, Amariel pushed just a little further.

"What happened then?"

"The Templars should have restored order, but red lyrium had driven Knight-Commander Meredith mad. She threatened to kill Kirkwall's Champion, turned on her own men…I'm not sure how far she would have gone. Too far."

"So you opposed her?" Amariel mostly stated, and Cullen felt the stirring of shame within himself.

"I stood with the Champion against her, in the end. But I should have seen through Meredith sooner."

"I'm sure you did what you thought was best at the time," Amariel said gently, appearing to back away from the serious conversation. "Thank you for indulging me. Just as a warning, I believe Sera has pegged the tavern as her hideout, if you want a better chance at avoiding her."

Cullen managed to give Amariel a small smile. "I appreciate the warning."

"Also, I was about to call another war council to go over everything while I've been gone. Would you like to join me?" Amariel asked, taking a step aside in the direction of Haven's gates.

Something stirred in Cullen's gut, but he paid it no mind, stepping up beside her. "Of course, My Lady," he said graciously, falling into comfortable step beside her. After a few moments of silence, Cullen spoke. "I must say I am impressed with the progress we've made in such short time—you moved through the Hinterlands quite quickly."

Amariel inclined her head. "There are still things to do, there, but…thank you. I was too caught up in doing whatever I could to really think about it at the time, but I suppose we did do quite a bit…perhaps I'll take another stop there on our way back from the marshes once we find those soldiers.

"They have been found, but it won't be an easy task to recover them."

Amariel's eyebrows rose. "I suppose I'll be hearing more about it at the table?"

"With my report, of course," Cullen said with a small smile, one Amariel graciously returned. They came to the doors before the war room, and Amariel paused.

"Oh, though one more thing, Commander, before we go in—Sera did have something nice to say about you. She _loves_ your hair," Amariel stated slyly, giving him a wink before she slipped inside without another word. Cullen simply stood there for a moment, caught off guard before he blushed.

"Maker's breath," he muttered, getting himself together again before he entered the war room, fighting the return of the blush when he caught Amariel grinning at him beside Cassandra.

* * *

The reports were easily gathered, with an update on the smaller tasks they'd been given in her absence first—Cullen's men had earned a decent amount of coin with a portion going to Amariel, Leliana's people had found that there were indeed treasures to be discovered under the passages she'd been investigating, and Josephine had squashed the rumors growing about the Inquisition swiftly—hers apparently being the first report finished. Also, once Amariel heard that the missing soldiers were being held captive in the marshes she promised to head there first, leaving her stop at the Hinterlands for the return trip. That just left the assignments.

"Josephine, Blackwall suggested that the Inquisition use the Grey Warden Treaties he has to help build the Inquisition. I believe we shouldn't let this opportunity pass," Amariel said seriously. Josephine smiled broadly.

"Your right, it could work. The Blight is but ten years past and Thedas remembers how we were saved. I can use the treaties, leverage the goodwill owed the Wardens and use it for the Inquisition," Josephine said happily.

"I leave this in your capable hands, then," Amariel said, inclining her head. "Leliana, I assume you would like to continue your investigations within the passages, especially with those runes you mentioned. I know I would."

"Thank you, Herald," Leliana said respectfully. That left Cullen, who, unfortunately, had the notes from Sera.

"All right, Commander, let's see what Sera's been off about," she said with a sigh, taking the notes and studying them for a few moments. She had to read some of the lines more than once to get a good grasp on what Sera meant, then hesitated between the two. "Okay then…Cu—"

Realizing she was about to use the wrong title, Amariel coughed, like she had something in her throat before she continued properly. "Commander—I assume this will be an easy task for you, finding a man who knows how to make…bee bombs, if I'm reading this correctly."

"I'll admit, it's too large an area to cover for my men, but I can send bounty hunters—they're a simpler bet," Cullen told her. Amariel could have sworn he was fighting a smile from the pull of the corner of his lips…

"Then I'll let you get to it," Amariel said with a bow of her head. Then she turned to Leliana after her eyes fell upon the Storm Coast on the war table, and the marker sitting there. "Also, Leliana, if you can send your agents to scout the Storm Coast for the Wardens that would be wonderful—I have to head there eventually to investigate these Chargers soon anyway."

"You seem skilled at attracting help, Herald—I'm glad that you've decided to take up the charge of finding new recruits. Even if some are a bit…odd," Josephine said diplomatically. Amariel laughed.

"Odd is putting it lightly when it comes to Sera," Amariel said in amusement before the mood faded, and she nodded seriously. "All right then. I'll take Cassandra, Blackwall, and Solas with me to the Marshes to see if we can find those missing soldiers, and make another stop at the Hinterlands to see if there's anything else I can do to help there. We'll head to the Storm Coast after we get back if you're report is ready by then," Amariel finished.

"Of course, Herald," Leliana said graciously.

"Maker watch over you," Cullen said sincerely as they began to disband, and Amariel gave him a gentle smile.

"You too, Cu—Commander," Amariel returned, hiding her blush the best she could as she turned and left the room as fast as she could without looking like she was running for the hills.

Once she could get away with, but twice?

She could feel his eyes on her back even as she left Haven for the Marshes, ignoring the way her stomach squirmed slightly at the thought of his parting words, however traditional they may be.

 _Maker watch over you._

* * *

There wasn't much news from the Mire for a while—not that there was much there to begin with. Cullen did, however, receive a report from Amariel about the events going on after a few days, most likely to reassure everyone that they were fine. Still, this one bordered closer to a personal letter than her other reports.

Apparently, she was getting more comfortable around her advisors.

Cullen decided not to think that it was just him she was becoming comfortable with, even if he was steadily becoming comfortable around her himself.

 _Commander_

 _We made contact with Scout Harding two days ago, so we made it safely to the Mire—though I'm not sure I can say it's safer here than on the road. It appears there was a plague here, and undead run rampant in these parts—we have to be careful not to disturb the water lest we attract their attention._

 _We have set up another camp, and we closed a rift. I think we may be getting closer to our missing men, however—we met one of the clan while closing a rift, he calls himself Sky Watcher. Apparently, this personal issue with me is not the opinion of the whole clan, just one overconfident chief son and a few of his underlings. Sky Watcher assured us that our soldiers are unharmed. I should also pass along his praises—you train the men well, Commander, and I'm glad for it. Sky Watcher says that the soldiers killed far more of the clan's people than the clan did our men. You're a great leader, it shows._

 _Also, we've found these strange beacons we can use to lure the undead from the water to control the battle—it has helped us immensely. Hopefully we can find out more about them while we're here._

 _And see something other than boggy water, mosquitos, and undead._

 _Amariel Lavellan._

Cullen appreciated the compliment, and he couldn't deny that it warmed him to hear it despite the grim and frightening nature of the rest of the letter. She spoke so flippantly of the bad and emphasized the compliment enough that Cullen was able to focus on the compliment long enough to dispel thoughts of the bad for a while.

When he gave the report, he didn't let the others see the letter since that particular part came to a more personal level. And afterwards, without thinking about it really, he put the report in a safe place he could easily get to whenever he wanted to.

* * *

It was hard to sleep in a place like the Mire. With the undead everywhere and deafening thunder with lighting striking the ground violently at random, Amariel hardly got a wink of sleep. She'd told Scout Harding that she could handle the undead, but after seeing so many of them plus the plague infected bodies…well, after a while it wore on a person.

Now, after trying and failing to push through one particular road, Amariel and her three companions were camped out trying to get some rest, Blackwall keeping the first watch while the rest of them tried to sleep. Well, Amariel couldn't sleep, she didn't know about Cassandra and Solas.

Finally, with a world weary sigh, Amariel sat up, pinching the bridge of her nose. This place, in and of itself, made her uneasy.

"Can't sleep, My Lady?" Blackwall asked from his perch upon a still intact crate they'd managed to find.

"It appears I can't," Amariel admitted.

"Don't feel safe?" Blackwall pressed slightly. Amariel only shrugged.

"How do you feel safe out here with all the danger? I'll be glad when we rescue the soldiers and get out of here. I'd sleep out in the snow at Haven anytime over this."

Blackwall chuckled. "I suppose so. Well, you can rest easy, My Lady—I'll make sure you're safe while you sleep," he promised in a sincere and quite tone of voice.

Thankfully, that did give Amariel some comfort, and she managed to relax. "Thank you, Blackwall," she said softly, settling down and trying to fall asleep once more. It took a while, but eventually she managed to fall into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

They did not hear again from Amariel until her return to Haven. The lack of reports had worried them all, though seeing Amarial and the rest of her companions return with weary looks about them was troublesome. It was still a comfort to see that the soldiers were with them, though Cullen's concern got the better of him as he approached Amariel gently brushing her new horse, the woman limping slightly as she moved around.

"Are you all right?" he asked once he was close enough their conversation wouldn't be overheard. Then, thinking of how their relationship needed to be more, well, business like considering he was a Commander and she the unofficial leader of this Inquisition, added a little more to justify his curiosity. "We all grew worried when we received no word from you after the one report."

Amariel grimaced. "I'll be okay, I'm just…worn out. Still trying to decide if I need a drink or a good several hours of sleep," she said with a sigh.

"From your letter it sounded like the Mire was going to be trying. Perhaps you should try to get some sleep first, and if you still feel terrible you can try that drink," Cullen suggested.

Amariel nodded. "Yes, that would be wise…I would have gotten a report to you while we were still in the Mire but it was just the four of us for a few days. The road before the Avvar tribe stronghold was polluted with undead, and it took us far too long to get through. And their leader was not an easy one to take care of—he knocked me around quite a bit, and Cassandra graciously pointed out that this is going to scar," Amariel said with a sigh, gesturing to a nasty gash on her collar and shoulder that probably needed looked at again. Cullen had to resist the ridiculous urge to reach out and gently touch the injury out of some form of concern. "Though on the up side of things, the soldiers were rescued, roads cleared of undead, another rift closed, and three more agents joined, so I don't mind a little pain and sleep deprivation."

Cullen placed a gentle hand upon the woman's uninjured shoulder, brows furrowed in concern. "Then that settles it—I insist that you get some rest. The world can wait a few hours until you have taken care of yourself. The Inquisition needs you alive and _healthy_ —healthy including well rested. And perhaps you should have that shoulder looked at one more time."

Amariel smiled at him tiredly while Cullen pried the brush from her fingers, leading her from the stable. "I will…thank you, Commander."

"Of course—now go get some rest," Cullen urged her, pushing her in the direction of the gates. She gave him a small wave before disappearing inside, and Cullen sighed, placing his hand upon his sword as usual. Perhaps when she woke he would give her a lecture about getting some proper sleep.

* * *

Unfortunately, Cullen didn't see Amariel again until she called a war meeting hours later—and apparently as soon as she woke up.

At least he knew she'd gotten the rest she so desperately needed.

When he saw her, she looked wide awake, and her wound was cleaned and bandaged. She also looked ready to jump right back into the thick of things again. That fire of hers was starting to garner his respect.

Cullen didn't pay much attention as Amariel gave her report, though he did pay attention once they were asked to report to her. Josephine happily spoke of the immense success in putting the Warden treaties to use and receiving both gold and equipment for the army, Leliana seemed pleased by the continued finds within the runes she was looking into, and despite how odd the mission had been Cullen had, in fact, found the man who made Sera's suggested 'bee bombs'. Leliana's people had also scouted the Storm Coast, which meant that Amariel had her next location for the end of this meeting.

"Scout Harding mentioned that she found a path that could be of use to us," Josephine suggested. "It all depends on how we want to use it, however. I suggest giving the location to the merchants—they'd reward us handsomely for it."

"Or we could keep it to ourselves and use it for our spies," Leliana chipped in. Cullen shifted from one foot to the other.

"Or we could use it for our soldiers. We could move troops east to west without risking the mountains," Cullen remarked. Surprisingly, it didn't take long for Amariel to decide.

"I agree with the Commander—we should leave the road for the troops," Amariel agreed. "Also, I had time to think while I was in the Mire, and Josephine, I believe you should go and see what it is Sera's people have for you. And could you do some digging into those shards I've been finding around Ferelden?"

"Of course, Herald."

"I'll go to the Storm Coast to look into these Warden sightings and go see these Chargers in action. After that…I believe I might want to go to Redcliffe to see what the mages want—at least to investigate. I don't plan on anything beyond that," Amariel said, glancing at Cullen as she finished. After their conversation about this Templar verses mage decision, Cullen decided to cede this one time.

"I suppose it doesn't hurt to hear what they have to say before we make any final decisions," Cullen said with a sigh. Amariel clapped her hands together.

"Excellent! Then shall we get started?" Amariel asked. They all adjourned one by one, though Cullen found Amariel gravitating towards him and falling into step beside him.

"Are you around the other advisors this much?" Cullen couldn't help but quip as they stepped outside the Chantry. Amariel chuckled.

"I check in on them every time I come back, just like you—you're just the first one I see, always out front with the recruits," Amariel said easily.

"I see," Cullen replied simply. "Was there something you needed?"

"Well, first of all I wanted to thank you for making sure I got my rest—I can be bad about that sometimes," Amariel admitted sheepishly. "And I also would like to sate a little more of my curiosity."

That made Cullen wary after their last conversation, though he didn't deny her. "You're welcome…and I suppose I won't mind a few more questions."

"Well, I've been thinking about this entire mage/Templar thing, and decided it might help to have a better understanding of both before I make any decisions. So, I was wondering if you could tell me more about the Templars."

Cullen relaxed. This was a relatively safe question. "If you need insight into what the Order is doing now, I'm afraid I can't offer more than you already know. Anything else I will answer as best I can."

"Why did you join the Order?" Amariel asked as they made their way through the small Haven village before the gate.

"I could think of no better calling than to protect those in need. I used to beg the Templars at our local Chantry to teach me. At first they merely humored me, but I must have shown promise or at least a willingness to learn. The Knight-Captain spoke to my parents on my behalf. They agreed to send me for training. I was thirteen when I left home."

"Thirteen?" Amariel echoed. "That's still so young…"

"I wasn't the youngest there. Some children are promised to the Order at infancy. Still, I didn't take on full responsibilities until I was eighteen. The Order sees you trained and educated first," Cullen elaborated.

"What about your family? Did you miss them?"

"Of course, but there were many my age who felt the same. We learned to look out for one another," Cullen assured her. Amariel nodded, then moved to a different line of questioning.

"Do the Templars do anything besides hunt mages?" Amariel asked with a hint of humor at the end of her sentence. Cullen shook his head.

"Of course they do—well, they're supposed to. Templars protect against the dangers of magic. Before the Order left the Chantry, that meant serving in the Circle. They were also tasked with tracking apostates or fighting demons inevitably summoned by the weak or malicious."

"What do you think of mages? Are they all a threat?" Amariel prodded lightly. A trick question, or at least one where she was trying to get an honest opinion for both paths laid before her.

"I've seen the suffering magic can inflict. I've treated mages with distrust because of it—at times without cause. That was unworthy of me…I will try not to do so here. Not that I want mages moving through our base completely unchecked. We need safeguards in place to protect people—including mages—from possession, at least," Cullen said pointedly.

"I agree with you on that," Amariel admitted before moving on. "You've lived in the Circle: what was a typical day for a Templar there?"

Cullen actually laughed, earning a few startled expressions from people they passed by that he resolutely ignored, holding the gate door open for Amariel. "Typical? The last time I was in a Circle was right before it fell apart. _Nothing_ was _typical_."

Amariel rolled her eyes. "All right, before that, then."

"Certain rituals require a full guard. A mage's Harrowing, for instance. I've attended a few. Most of the time you merely maintain a presence. On patrol or in the Circle, ready to respond if needed. Mages pretend to ignore that presence, but they are watching you just as closely."

Amariel considered his words for a moment. "Do Templars and mages never speak to each other?"

"Some do, but Templars are supposed to maintain a certain distance from mages. If a mage is possessed or uses blood magic, you must act quickly, without hesitation. Your judgement cannot be clouded," Cullen said seriously. "Of course…ignoring one another does nothing to foster understanding."

"No, it doesn't," Amariel sighed. "What about the training? What does that involve?"

"There is weapon and combat training. Even without their abilities, Templars are among the best warriors in Thedes. Initiates must also memorize portions of the Chant of Light, study history, and improve their mental focus."

"Did you enjoy your training?"

"I wanted to learn everything. If I was giving my life to this, I would be the best Templar I could."

Amariel smiled and laughed softly, and Cullen was surprised to find himself glad he'd been able to make her do so. "You were a model student then?" Amariel asked, eyes twinkling. Cullen returned her smile and laughed as well.

"I wanted to be. I wasn't always successful. Watching a candle burn down while reciting the Chant of Transfiguration wasn't the most _exciting_ task. I admit, my mind sometimes wandered."

Amariel pursed her lips, managing to come up with yet another question. "Do Templars take vows? 'I swear to the Maker to watch all mages' or something like that?"

Cullen chuckled at her wording. "There's a vigil first—you're meant to be at peace during that time, but your life is about to change. When it's over, you give yourself to a life of service. That's when you're given a philter—your first draught of lyrium—and it's power. As Templars we are not to seek wealth or acknowledgement. Our lives belong to the maker and the path we have chosen," Cullen said gently, coming to a stop far enough away from the sparring recruits that they had their privacy. There was a few heartbeats of silence from Amariel before she spoke again, some expression flashing across her face too quickly for Cullen to catch before her expression was that of calm curiosity and seriousness.

"A life of service and sacrifice. Are Templars also expected to give up…physical temptations?" Amariel asked as casually as if she was discussing the weather. Cullen was startled, staring at her in shameless bemusement.

"Physical? Why…" Cullen cleared his throat, suddenly feeling a little warm and shifting in place. "Why would you…"

Shaking his head and trying to regain his composure, Cullen haltingly answered her question. "That's…not expected. Templars can marry—although there are rules around it, and the Order must grant permission…Some may choose to give up… _more_ …to prove their devotion, but it's, um…not required."

Amariel arched an eyebrow, her face still that unsettlingly calm seriousness. "Have you?"

Now Cullen was openly caught off guard, scrambling for his train of thought and dignity. "Me? I…um…no. I've taken no such vows. Maker's breath…can we speak of something else?" Cullen finished in a hurry, fearing he may be beginning to feel a blush creep up on him. Andraste preserve him if he did, he'd already lost enough face at the mercy of her questions.

Amariel's calm mask finally cracked, amusement shimmering in her eyes before a grin slowly played across her face. "Oh, I've had all my questions answered now. It was a pleasure speaking to you, Commander, though I must be off now. I'll speak to you again when I return," Amariel said pleasantly, gracefully walking away and leaving Cullen embarrassed and also…warmed inside as he watched her gather her small party, the four of them mounting their horses with Amariel taking the lead before they headed in the direction of the Storm Coast.


	3. Chapter 3: Lines

**_All right, here we are, chapter three! I'm sorry to say it's going to be a while before chapter four because my keep aappaently didn't transfer my world state ccorrectly, so I have to restart the game._**

 ** _Joy._**

 ** _(At least I have time since I'm sick today)_**

 ** _Anyway, please give me a review guys, please i love reviews!_**

 ** _Enjoy!_**

* * *

 _Commander_

 _It's always nice when the first thing that you see—despite the downpour all around—is a dragon flying uncomfortably close by. I'm not sure what I'm more worried about—the fact I saw it, or the fact I don't know where it went._

 _Don't worry—I'll be sure to keep clear of angry dragons. I don't exactly want to deal with any of those right now._

 _As I'm sure you've noticed—since I sent this message with him—we've received new recruits. I've seen Iron Bull and his Chargers in action now and fought beside them—I know they'll make a great contribution to the Inquisition._

 _(Though I feel so tiny standing by him—I already felt small standing by you, but Iron Bull! I'll never feel small around you again!)_

 _While Iron Bull returns with the Chargers, we are going to deal a group called the Blades of Hessarian that have been giving our men trouble and see if we can curb some of them to fighting for a better cause. I'm going to try and avoid more bloodshed by challenging their leader according to their customs to take control. I'll have to tell you how this goes once I return. After that we'll start looking for signs of the Wardens._

 _Hopefully we won't be here long—I dare say this drenching rain is colder than the snow at Haven._

 _Amariel Lavellan_

Again, the way that Amariel phrased her letter made Cullen smile despite the dangers she mentioned. A dragon was troublesome, though her promise to avoid it put his mind at ease.

He had been surprised when Iron Bull approached him with the letter. After Kirkwall, he didn't have the best experience with Quinari, but he was professional enough not to immediately react badly. Iron Bull had simply grinned at his reaction and easily explained who he was and why he was here, followed by an immediate request to know where Josephine was so they could get things set up. Cullen had pointed him in the right direction, then spent his time reading the letter before putting it with the other one and delivering the report part of it himself.

At the same time, he made a mental note to have a hot meal ready for Amariel whenever she did arrive. Any soldier knew how miserable life was in conditions of a constant downpour.

* * *

Amariel's return this time was less troublesome, thankfully. She arrived a few days after Iron Bull, dry after the long ride and looking at ease instead of haggard as she had returning from the Mire. Without even thinking about it, Cullen approached their group and offered Amariel a hand to help her down before she got the chance to dismount. She smiled at him, placing her nimble hand within his.

"I dare say, Commander, that if this continues I'm going to start expecting you to greet me every time I return from a trip," Amariel stated lightly as he lowered her to the ground. Cullen chuckled.

"I would say you started it with all your frequent visits," he returned effortlessly. "How was the remainder of your trip?"

Amariel took her horse's reins, leading him into his pen. "I'm glad I chose to challenge the Blade's leader instead of charging in blindly—apparently, no one liked him, and I wasn't the first to challenge him, just the first to win. They emphasized that they're loyal to me now and, by default, the Inquisition, so we have recruited more agents. I did see the dragon again, but from a distance—and fighting a giant, no less. It was…interesting to say the least. We set up three camps there, so we have a strong foothold along that coast, and we found signs of the Grey Wardens…but they've moved on. They were looking for someone, but they didn't say who specifically."

"So besides the dragon and the Blade Leader confrontation, a relatively quiet excursion," Cullen remarked, falling into step beside her as they made their way towards the edge of the recruit training area. Cullen could feel Blackwall, Solas, and Cassandra watching them while the three unpacked their things—Amariel tended to only bring what she had on her—and Iron Bull was watching them from where he'd set up camp.

Apparently there was no such thing as privacy here at Haven. At least they could talk where their conversations weren't overheard.

"Yes, it was—I'm glad to be out of the rain, that's certain."

"I'm sure you are."

Amariel glanced back towards Iron Bull, casually waving her hand in his direction. "So, what do you think of our new recruits, since they've been here for a few days now?"

"I'm glad to have Bull's men with us. The Chargers are professionals, despite evidence to the contrary," Cullen said diplomatically. "And you're right, he is off-puttingly large, even for a Quinari in, my opinion."

Amariel chuckled. "Be glad you're not my size…so, how are the recruits shaping up?"

"They're…coming along. I don't have to educate them on what a shield's for, anymore," Cullen said with a sigh. Amariel laughed, causing Cullen to gain a slight sense of victory.

"Yes, that is helpful. Still, you're a fine Commander, and you teach them well—so don't be too hard on yourself," Amariel told him with a smile, one Cullen returned with a respectful bow of his head.

"Thank you, Herald," Cullen said humbly. They stood in companionable silence for a few moments, and Cullen ended up having the idle thought that he'd never seen Amariel with her hair down, and he wondered how long her hair really was if it made such an intricate braid and bun.

"I'm going to Redcliffe next, to speak with the mages and see what they want," Amariel finally said. "While I'm down there I'll see to getting the refugees some supplies against the cold, so you won't have to worry about it."

"Just be careful when you go to Redcliffe—mages can be unpredictable," Cullen cautioned.

"I know—I've been listening to your lectures," Amariel said, giving him a small half smile. "I'll be sure to write daily letters—perhaps I'll borrow one of Leliana's birds…"

"That would bring me some comfort," Cullen admitted.

"Then I will keep you well informed on our movements, Commander—every time something happens."

Cullen nodded, ignoring his sense of relief before he nodded back towards Haven. "Word of your arrival has probably already spread—perhaps you should get your rest and quiet while you can, before we have our war meeting."

"I see you've already taken on the role of the one who gets to worry about me keeping my strength up," Amariel mused. "But yes, I suppose some rest and a hot meal would be nice."

"Until the war meeting then, My Lady," Cullen said respectfully, already taking a step towards the camp.

"Until then, Commander Cullen," Amariel said softly before she walked away. Cullen barely heard her, but he felt the warmth from hearing her speak his name aloud.

He was unaffected by the cold after that.

* * *

When they entered the war room later, the first thing Amariel did was smile at Cullen, which he returned. There were no words exchanged between them in front of the other three, though Cullen was sure that the other women noticed. In order to make sure there wasn't a chance for someone to comment on the exchange, Cullen immediately moved forward with his reports.

"We started sending soldiers along the road you secured in the Fallow Mire. I want to pass along their considerable gratitude for being spared treks across the Frostbacks. Our Healers seem happier as well," Cullen stated.

"I'm glad it's being put to good use—it was, admittedly, a nightmare to clear," Amariel said with a sigh. "What about you, Josephine, what did you find as a result of Sera's…riddle?"

"It proved quite rewarding—documents detailing how a Lord sabotaged a rival's marriage. Scandalous and useful in applying our influence," Josephine stated with a small, half smile.

 _At least Sera can turn her tricks to more productive matters_ , Cullen couldn't help but think.

Amariel then noticed one of the newer markers on the table, pointing to it curiously. "What's this?"

"Iron Bull informed us of a fight for a successor in Lydes that we may want to try and influence. One of their three candidates could be a valuable ally to the Inquisition, but the other two have to be removed from play first," Leliana informed her. "There is Caralina, the capable cousin who isn't particularly interested in personally overseeing Lydes—she's already a Duchess elsewhere; Monette, the niave and easily influenced daughter I do not believe would be as useful as her other two; and the brother Jean-Gaspard, who would be difficult to control and may be more of a threat than anything else."

"So we're going to try and get one of them on the throne?" Amariel asked.

"That would be the idea, yes," Leliana stated. "Monette would do better in the Chantry than in the Game. I can see that she is encouraged to take vows."

"I can destroy Caralina's marriage with four words and the proper glove left on the proper table," Josephine suggested.

"Jean-Gaspard is a chevalier and a capable military leader. If we want him removed, I daresay we might recruit him for ourselves," Cullen ventured to say. Amariel leaned back, considering their words. To Cullen, Jean-Gaspard was the obvious threat if he took the throne, and he sincerely hoped Amariel would take his offer.

"Commander Cullen…if we were to recruit him and he was placed under your command, are you confident you can keep him there?" Amariel asked, meeting his gaze.

"I am, Lady Lavellan," Cullen said, straightening.

"Then we'll take Jean-Gaspard from the game now so Caralina has a better chance later—I'll leave that in your capable hands," Amariel said with a nod.

"All right."

"What of this?" Amariel asked, pointing to a marker on the Ferelden side of the table.

"There is a vigil being held in Highever in remembrance of Justinia, and we've been invited to attend," Josephine informed her.

"I know Teyrn Cousland, and I knew Justinia. I can't attend, but I could write to him," Leliana suggested.

"We should send a diplomatic attaché and some of the Templars who knew the Divine," Josephine countered. Amariel was quick to agree.

"We should have a physical presence there, to show our sincerity. Josehpine, go ahead and send the attaché."

There was nothing else on the map at the moment, so Amariel nodded. "All right—I will set off for the Hinterlands, then, to see what the mages are offering us," Amariel promised, straightening. "It shouldn't take long if nothing…unexpected happens."

"Don't jinx yourself," Cullen remarked.

"Well, if I have, then I'll work with it," Amariel said with a smile. "Shall we part ways for now, then?"

"I will begin making the arrangements for the attache, Lady Lavellan," Josephine promised.

"And I'll reach out to Jean-Gaspard," Cullen added.

"Let us get to work then," Amariel approved, and while everyone else filtered out of the room Amariel pulled Leliana aside. "I'd like to borrow one of your birds while I'm journeying to Redcliffe…" Cullen heard her say, and then he was out of earshot.

* * *

 _Commander Cullen_

 _Here you are, your first unofficial report from me, just as I promised._

 _We've hardly been here a day and already we've sealed two rifts and located supplies for the refugees. While one of the rifts means no more in the outskirts of the Hinterlands, I'm afraid we're still short on supplies for the refugees. One spot still eludes me, but I'm going to find it before we head to Redcliffe since Redcliffe is on the other side of the Hinterlands._

 _I have to go now—the horse is getting antsy and is ready to move out. I'll write to you again once I've found the rest of the supplies._

 _Amariel Lavellan_

Cullen didn't reply to that report—there wasn't much to reply to, it would only be a one line letter expressing his gratitude that things were going according to plan. He kept it in mind though, sharing her progress with his fellow Councilors and waiting patiently for the next update.

* * *

 _Commander Cullen_

 _I found it! We just scoured the same rocky plain for a few hours, but I found it! We're bringing the supplies to the Crossroads, and then we're off to Redcliffe. I promise to write daily from there, to put your mind at ease. I'm just glad Leliana agreed to lend one of her birds to me, otherwise I'd feel bad for the scouts traveling to deliver these messages._

 _Also, I notice that the area is much safer now—people aren't as afraid to camp out in the open, and we rarely run into trouble from rogue mages or Templars. It's quieter here, and I enjoy it._

 _Oh, and we cleared Dwarfson's Pass of rifts as well._

 _Amariel Lavellan_

Cullen couldn't help but smile as he read the letter, enjoying her casual and lighthearted tone and happy to hear that she had officially tended to all the needs of the refugees at the Crossroads. One less thing to worry about, and more people in dire need given the assistance they required.

* * *

The next letter, however, though short, did earn a letter in return, and Cullen also sent some of his men to deliver some carefully selected supplies to Amariel and her men.

 _Commander Cullen_

 _Have to find another way to Redcliffe. Walked right into a dragon on our initial planned route, plus all the little dragons were swarming the valley. Hope I don't develop a track record with this. Will write when we find another way to Redcliffe._

 _Amariel Lavellan_

 _Lady Lavellan_

 _I know you were coming from the other side of the Hinterlands, but perhaps you should take Redcliffe Road instead of cutting through the valley you initially planned on going through. Dragons are not creatures to be treated lightly, and I would prefer if you avoided them at all costs. I'd rather your trip to Redcliffe take a little longer and you arrive safely than you end up in the sights of a dragon. Other than that, I commend you on the excellent work you've done in the Hinterlands, and hope that you find the answers you seek in Redcliffe once you arrive._

 _Commander Cullen_

* * *

 _Commander Cullen_

 _Thank you for the supplies you sent with some of your men. I'll admit they startled me, since all was quiet and deserted until I turned a corner and they were there. I greatly appreciate the assistance, however._

 _We managed to make it to Redcliffe without having to poke at any dragons, but ended up finding…something far more troublesome._

 _Yes, more troublesome than a fire breathing dragon soaring overhead._

 _There was a rift in front of Redcliffe—we thought nothing of it until…when we engaged the demons…time itself seemed to be altered by this rift. Something is not right here…we don't know what, yet, but we will find out, I promise you that._

 _Furthermore, when we arrived, we were informed no one was expecting us, which is odd. I know I spoke to Fiona, she should be expecting us._

 _And yes, I remember that since I'm at Redcliffe I'm required to write every day. Hopefully there will be an update of progress every time._

 _Amariel Lavellan_

This particular report worried him, and he immediately brought it before the others. Had Amariel truly walked into a trap as some of them suspected? And if a rift could effect time itself in the immediate vicinity, what else could it do? What else were they up against?

He sent Amariel a simple reply.

 _Lady Lavellan_

 _Be cautious. If things become too dangerous, I strongly recommend that you return to Haven at once so we can collectively decide what to do next. You're too valuable to risk. Mind your step, and be careful where you place your trust._

 _Commander Cullen_

* * *

 _Commander Cullen_

 _I'll start with the simple stuff. We've gained another agent for the inquisition—a smuggler._

 _The strange stuff that's giving me a headache:_

 _Fionna swears she's never met us, that she hasn't been to Val Royeaux since before the Conclave, and the mages somehow ended up making a rather unpopular alliance with Tevinter. A Tevinter named Alexius has the mages under his control. I offered to negotiate with him to see if the mages are still an option for an alliance. His son, Felix…collapsed as a feint to pass a note to me, warning that I was in danger and asking to meet me in the Chantry. I also heard that Alexius forced everyone Tranquil and not a mage out of the castle, and all Tranquil are being driven from the city. The Tranquil who informed me of this joined our cause, so we have another agent._

 _We—cautiously—made our way to the Chantry and met a rather interesting fellow. Dorian Pavus, a mage—a Tevinter mage, but not a magister—and the one who wanted to warn us. He threw a lot of us at once, but in a nutshell…_

 _He says that Alexius used magic to distort time itself so he could claim the mages out from under us, before we could even enter into talks. He says the magic Alexius is using is unstable—I could have told anyone that—and that more rifts that distort time like the one outside of Redcliffe will start to appear, and that this magic could unravel the world. It's a lot to take on faith, but I can also tell that Dorian is being honest. He even admitted that Alexius was once his mentor, and that Dorian was assisting him with the concept before he left Alexius. He doesn't know why Alexius is tearing apart time itself to put the mages underneath him, though Felix (Who is assisting Dorian) says he's working with a group called the Venatori, and they're trying to get to me. Dorian had to leave after this explanation, though he said he'd keep in touch._

 _We're returning to Haven immediately. Things just got much more complicated._

 _Amariel Lavellan_

His reply?

 _Lady Lavellan_

 _This is better discussed at the war table in Haven. We are awaiting your return and a full, detailed report. You are correct, things are now more complicated, and we must make our decision now._

 _Commander Cullen_

* * *

Amariel and the other three arrived at a full sprint to Haven, and Cullen swiftly approached her, helping her down and handing the horse off to a soldier to put in the stable. He was about to go straight to business but paused when he realized she was wearing something…different.

"You got new armor," he noted. Amariel nodded, leading him forward.

"Yes, there was some masterwork armor there I couldn't pass on, especially knowing things are about to get more complicated."

Cullen grimaced. "You're right, they are. Are you still convinced we should consider the mages?"

"I wasn't convinced before this, I was still in the air. Now…Cullen, we can't ignore this," Amariel stated, coming to a halt right in front of the Haven Gate. Cullen took a moment to revel in the fact that she called him by name, without his title, before he responded.

"This proves that the mages are too much of a risk to side with—they're magic is tearing apart time. Can we really afford to get involved with that?" Cullen pointed out.

"Can we afford not to? Do you really want an enemy that can warp _time_ , Commander?" Amariel returned. "And furthermore, it's not the mages in Redcliffe that are warping time, it's this Alexius. He's the one posing a threat, and I do not think we can afford not to step in now."

Cullen was about to argue for the Templars again, but Amariel cut him off. "Cullen, I know you want to side with the Templars, I know you want their support, and I do believe that there are still good people among the Templars, but this is the immediate and more troublesome threat, and I understand that if we go forward with this then we are officially siding with the mages. I understand that you don't trust them entirely, but we must step in. We already have to seal a hole in the breach, let's not have to deal with fighting someone who can warp time as well."

Cullen stepped back, resting his hand upon his sword as always. "You are our tiebreaker. And whatever decision you choose to make…I will respect it, and stand with you on it. You have my word," he eventually said in measured words. To his surprise, Amariel gently touched his arm in a gesture of comfort, something that caused him to feel hot and cold all at once.

"Thank you, Cullen. Your opinion matters to me, and I don't want you to feel like you're not being heard. I wish there was a way to have both, but like you said, we must come to a decision now…and I believe this is the decision we have to make. But the Inquisition's doors are still open to any Templar who wishes to help—you have _my_ word on that."

Cullen cleared his throat, and Amariel stepped away, letting her hand drop back to her side. "We should go discuss this with the others—I'm sure they have their own opinions in this matter."

Amariel nodded, taking the lead. "I agree. Let's gather the others."

* * *

Amariel was first inside, Cullen close behind her, and they immediately took up positions around the table. Leliana and Josephine came next, with Cassandra arriving last to stand beside Amariel.

"I know we're all thinking of what's going on at Redcliffe, but I want to know what's happened since I've been gone first," Amariel said calmly.

"Jean-Gaspard agreed to join our forced and will soon be arriving with his men, Lady Lavellan," Cullen told her promptly.

"Our presence at the Divine's vigil was greatly appreciated, and we've recived a donation of arms for our soldiers as a result," Josephine said simply.

"That's good to hear, Josephine," Amariel replied.

"The Alamarri Runes have finally given up more of their secrets," Leliana pointed in. "They point to the northern coast of Ferelden, and I would like permission to search the area for the secrets it could yield."

"Of course, Leliana—I'm sure you'll find something valuable there," Amariel assured her. "Oh, and Josephine, I remember that terrible Lord that wanted our help expunging elves and mages and refugees from his lands—would you kindly send him a letter of refusal?"

"At once," Josephine agreed.

"What of the events in Lydes?" Amariel asked.

"Caralina or Monette will almost certainly be the next Duchess of Lydes. Caralina has sent agents to cause a scandal, judging that Monette does not have the skill to avoid such snares. Monette has relied upon Mother Renette, her mentor in the Chantry, for advice upon how to strengthen her claim to the Duchy, and the revered mother, in an attempt to protect Monette, has sent mercenaries to threaten Caralina's life," Josephine informed her.

"My men can stop the mercenaries and give Caralina's agents a clear path to Monette. I know you said that you would prefer Caralina to end up the Duchess," Cullen stepped in.

"Thank you, Commander Cullen, it would be much appreciated," Amariel said with a sigh. "Now that that's settled…I believe we must speak of Redcliffe."

One would think Amariel had admitted to blowing up the Conclave with the immediate clash of opinions that followed. At least no one was shouting. They might as well have been with how tense the air was and curt and brief their words could be.

"We don't have the manpower to take the castle, either we find another way in or give up this nonsense and go and get the Templars," Cullen snapped at Cassandra as Amariel tuned back in.

"Redcliffe is in the hands of a Magister—this cannot be allowed to stand," Cassandra said flatly.

"The letter from Alexius asked for the Herald of Andraste by name. It's an obvious trap," Josephine argued.

"So we've heard from magister Alexius: I expected as much," Amariel said with a sigh, leaning forward and bracing herself against the table, brow furrowed in thought.

"And yet some of us want to sit and do nothing," Leliana stated sourly.

"Not this again," Josephine sighed.

"Redcliffe Castle is one of the most defensible fortresses in Ferelden—it has repelled thousands of assaults," Cullen said firmly, now turning to Amariel and speaking in a slightly gentler but still firm voice that surprised Amariel, with how much emotion she could see in his gaze at that moment. "If you go in there, you'll die, and we'll lose the only means we have of closing these rifts. I won't allow it."

Thankfully Leliana stepped in before Amariel could recover her wits in time to properly reply. "And if we don't even try to meet Alexius we lose the mages and leave a hostile foreign power on our doorstep."

"Even if we could assault the keep, it would be for naught," Josephine cut in, turning her attention to Amariel. "An Orlesian Inquisition's army marching into Ferelden would provoke a war. Our hands are tied!"

"The magister—" Cassandra started to say, but Cullen cut her off.

"Has outplayed us."

"We can't just give up—there has to be something we can do," Amariel argued right back, straightening.

"We cannot accept defeat now. There must be a solution," Cassandra agreed, taking her side.

"Other than the main gate there's got to be another way into the castle—A sewer, a water way, anything?"

"There's nothing I know of that would work," Cullen said with a shake of his head.

"Wait," Leliana suddenly said. "There is a secret passage into the castle—an escape route for family. It's too narrow for our troops, but we could send agents through."

"Too risky," Cullen said instantly. "Those agents will be discovered well before they reach the magister."

"That's why we need a distraction," Leliana replied simply. "Perhaps the envoy Alexius wants so badly."

"Focus their attention on Lavellan while we take out the Tavinters…it's risky, but it could work," Cullen ceded.

Suddenly the door swung open and a new voice joined them as someone barged inside. "Fortunately, you'll have help."

Amariel spun around in surprise. "Dorian?" she exclaimed as the man came to stand beside her.

"This man says he has information about the magister and his methods, Commander," the scout that was trailing behind Dorian said. Amariel sent Dorian a small smile that he returned, then held up her hand in a gesture of peace.

"It's all right, he's with me—just a little late in arriving," Amariel amended. "This is Dorian Pavus—he's the one who alerted me to this danger in the first place at Redcliffe."

Cullen met her gaze, then allowed him to remain with a small incline of his head, which dismissed the scout.

"Your spies will never get past Alexius's magic without my help. So if you're going after him, I'm coming along," Dorian said in a simple, smug voice. Cullen turned his attention back to Amariel.

"The plan puts you in the most danger. We can't in good conscience order you to do this. We can still go after the Templars if you'd rather not play the bait, it's up to you," Cullen said quietly. Amariel held his gaze, and she could see in his eyes he already knew her decision. They had already had this conversation at the gates.

"When do we leave?"

* * *

"Announce us," Amariel said firmly as she approached the Tevinters within Redcliffe Castle, confident despite her precarious position.

"The magister's invitation was for Mistress Lavellan and no one else. You lot wait here," the Tevinter in front replied.

"Where I go, they go," Amariel stated in a voice that left no room for debate. The Tevinters exchanged a few glances, but then stepped aside, allowing Amariel to venture forth a few steps behind a fair haired young man.

"My Lord Magister; the agents of the Inquisition have arrived," the young man announced as Amariel, Blackwall, and Cassandra all stepped forward.

"My friend—it's so good to see you again…and your associates, of course," Alexius said, the picture of friendly host. "I'm sure we can work out some sort of arrangement that is equitable to all parties."

Fiona stepped forward from the side of the room then. "Are we mages to have no voice in deciding our fate?"

"Fiona you would not have turned your followers over to my care if you did not trust me with their lives," Alexius chided her. Amariel did her best not to bristle and to remain diplomatic.

"If the Grand Enchanter wants to be part of these talks than I welcome her as a guest of the Inquisition," Amariel said smoothly. Fiona gave Amariel a small bow.

"Thank you," she said sincerely.

Amariel ignored whatever look Alexius was giving her, watching Fiona take up a position beside Cassandra while Alexius sat down.

"The Inquisition needs mages to close the breach, and I have them. So, what shall you offer in exchange?" Alexius asked.

 _Stall, you need to stall, as much as you hate these elusive games._

"The Inquisition has many backers among the Orlesian nobility. I'm sure we can find suitable compensation," Amariel said smoothly.

"I'm not sure what the Orlesian nobility have to offer that I don't already possess," Alexius returned rather harshly.

Felix, next to the throne, turned to his father. "She knows everything, Father."

"Felix…what have you done?" Alexius asked the young man in a hushed whisper.

"Your son is concerned that you're involved in something terrible," Amariel tried to say gently. Alexius only replied with harshness.

"So speaks the thief! Do you think you can turn my son against me?"

Alexius stood, his anger mounting. "You walk into my stronghold with your stolen mark, a gift you don't even understand, and think you're in control?"

Amariel didn't back down—stepped forward even—and Alexius sneered. "You're nothing but a mistake!"

Now Amariel allowed herself to bristle. "If you know so much, enlighten me: tell me what this mark on my hand is for."

"It belongs to your betters—you wouldn't even begin to understand its purpose," Alexius sneered.

"Father, listen to yourself, do you know what you sound like?" Felix pled.

Suddenly a new voice spoke from the shadows, and Dorian emerged, coming to stand beside Amariel. "He sounds exactly like the sort of villainous cliché everyone expects us to be."

"Dorian: I gave you a chance to be a part of this. You turned me down. The Elder One has power you would not believe—he will raise the Imperium from its own ashes…"

Amariel glanced slightly at Dorian at Alexius' words, but she didn't trust the man any less for it—in fact, she felt it strengthened her trust. "That's who you serve? The one who killed the Divine? Is he a mage?"

"Soon he will become a god! He will make the world bow to mages one more! We will rule from the boric ocean to the frozen seas

"You can't involve my people in this!" Fiona protested in angry horror.

"Alexius, this is exactly what you and I talked about never wanting to happen!" Dorian stated as he stepped up. "Why would you support this?"

"Stop it, Father! Give up the Venatori," Felix insisted. "Let the southern mages fight the breach, and let's go home."

"No," Alexius said pitifully, turning to Felix. "It's the only way, Felix. He can save you!"

"Save me?"

"There is a way. The Elder One promised if I undo the mistake at the temple…"

"I'm going to die. You need to accept that!"

"Sieze them, Venatori!" Alexius suddenly said in a loud voice, jabbing a finger at Amariel and her group. "The Elder One demands this woman's life!"

There came the sudden chorus of knives sheathing in bodies, and Amariel smiled when she turned to find the scouts had made it through, and had killed the guards at the perfect moment.

Leliana trained her men as well as Cullen trained his.

Becoming serious again, Amariel turned back to Alexius.

"Your men are dead, Alexius," Amariel stated, waiting for his surrender. The man seethed.

"You…are a mistake! You should never have resisted!"

Alexius called an amulet to his hands, and to Amariel's utter bemusement Dorian literally _threw_ himself in front of Amariel.

"No!" he cried desperately, shooting some form of magic right at Alexius' chest, confounding the man. A blast still came from the amulet, there was a flash of dark green…

And then the castle was gone.

* * *

"Blood of The Elder One!"

"Where'd they come from?"

Amariel pushed herself up, confused as to how she ended up elbows deep on all fours in a flooded room.

It was stepping through the Fade all over again.

A crackle of electric magic caught Amariel off guard, and she turned to see Dorian standing in front of her as a shield until she got her bearings. Noticing that they had two guards rushing them—the two that must have been the source of the exclamations—Amariel struggled to her feet and drew her swords, stepping around Dorian to embed her blade into the closest guard while Dorian cracked his staff hard enough against the head of the other guard to knock him out entirely.

"Displacement?" Dorian wondered out loud as Amariel cautiously approached him. "Interesting! It's probably not what Alexius intended. The rift must have moved us…to what? The closest confluence of arcane energy?"

"The last thing I remember we were in the castle hall," Amariel said with worry as Dorian crouched down beside one of the fallen guards, handing the guard's key to Amariel.

"Let's see…if we're still in the castle, it isn't…oh! Of course! It's not simply where, it's when!"

Amariel blinked at him. He wasn't seriously suggesting that…

"Alexius used the Amulet as a focus! It moved us through time!"

He was.

"That doesn't sound good," Amariel quipped.

"It sounds terrible depending on when we are and what happened while we were away. Let's look around, see where the rift took us. Then we can figure out how to get back…if we can."

"You have a plan how to get us back, I suppose," Amariel said dubiously. Dorian flashed her a dazzling smile.

"I have some thoughts on that. They're lovely thoughts—like little jewels."

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Amariel snorted, then decided to calm down enough to look for clues.

She had the key to the cell door since Dorian had fished it off of the guard, and while she unlocked the door she looked around at the giant amounts of red lyrium that seemed to be growing out of everything.

Quietly, the pair crept out of the cell and down the hall, up a flight of stairs as well. Dorian kept his staff at the ready to blast anyone that jumped out at them, and Amariel kept one hand on one of her daggers.

She'd rather they were ready for anything.

At the top of the first flight of stairs, the hall went two ways, so Amariel took the left, up that flight of stairs and through the door.

There was a massive spread of red lyrium blocking most of the hall, though Amariel and Dorian managed to shimmy around the lyrium and make their way through the cell door that led to another passageway.

It was a dead end.

"All right, we'll go the other way," Amariel muttered, feeling a deep unease she couldn't explain settle within her.

She feared what she would find the deeper into this castle she went.

Along they went through a maze of dark, blood splattered and bone scattered halls caked in red lyrium that caused more of a glow than the small fires from the above chandeliers. Then, after a few turns ushered on by a series of dead ends, they came to more…active cells. There stood a familiar name Amariel couldn't remember the name of, though she knew he'd been one of the mages she'd met in Redcliffe.

"Andraste blest me, Andraste blest me…my tears are my sins, my sins, my sins…Andraste guide me Andraste guide me…" The man sang in a broken tone.

"Hello, do you remember me?" Amariel asked, though the man only continued with his song.

"Leave him…we'll get no answers from him," Dorian said softly, touching her arm to lead her away reluctantly, further down the hall. Amariel's dread and unexplained fear only grew.

They opened the door to a main hall—not _the_ main hall, just the main hall of the prisons, it would seem—and were immediately forced to deal with two guards. Hoping that Dorian could handle the one on the right, Amariel took off towards the left, quickly taking care of him with a deflection of his sword with one dagger before digging her other right into his exposed shoulder.

They'd caught the guards off guard—good.

On the other side, Dorian managed to electrocute the guard he'd been fighting into submission, but a third from around the corner was quickly descending upon the unsuspecting mage, and Amariel raced across the room to put herself between the two, catching the guard's blade with both of her own before it could cleave Dorian in two, who whipped around and froze him with some ice magic. Amariel decided to make sure the guard wouldn't return and slashed her blades as hard as she could into the frozen man, causing the ice to splinter—and the man as well.

A gruesome way to die…but it was kill or be killed right now, in this mysterious time they didn't understand.

"Thanks for that," Dorian said in a cheerful voice only ruined by his slight heavy breathing.

"Don't mention it," Amariel said. "Let's just both get out of here in one piece—agreed?"

"That is a bargain I'm willing to make," Dorian mused, and the two of them made their way to the left hand corridor of cells.

Maybe here they would find answers.

Down the hall to it's far end, down even deeper into the dungeons, all Amariel and Dorian found were empty cells, one after another.

Until they came across one that was framed by red lyrium, the floor practically red lyrium…

And its occupant trapped in red lyrium.

Fiona.

"You're alive," Fiona whispered disbelievingly. "I saw you…disappear…into the rift!"

"What is the date?" Amariel said with a tremble to her voice. "I need to know how much time has passed."

"Nine forty-two…dragon."

"Nine forty-two?" Dorian echoed in surprise. "Then we've missed an entire year!"

"We have to get out of here—go back in time," Amariel stated, looking between them.

"Please stop this from happening," Fiona whispered. "Alexius…serves The Elder One…more powerful…than the Maker…no one…challenges him and lives!"

"That magister is going to regret he didn't just kill me," Amariel seethed in a low tone of voice.

"Our only hope is to find the amulet that Alexius used to send us here. If it still exists, I can use it to reopen the rift at the exact spot we left…maybe," Dorian added after a heartbeat's hesitation.

"Good," Fiona breathed.

"I said maybe. It might also turn us into paste

"You must try. Your spymaster, Leliana…she is here. Find her. Quickly, before The Elder One learns you're here!" Fiona rasped.

As much as she hated to leave her, Amariel could tell that she could do nothing for the poor woman, and she pulled herself away. "We will fix this…you have my word," Amariel said softly before she forced herself to move back through the corridor."

Now fearful of what she would find, Amariel made her way to the right side cells, feeling her heartbeat increase when the first thing she saw as she opened the door was red lyrium.

Andraste preserve her…she prayed she wouldn't see another horror story such as with Fiona.

Down they went, far below once more, searching the lower cells on the left side first. At the far end in the lowest corners of the left side cells, Amariel spotted Blackwall.

At least he was still alive. And she was relieved to see he was still standing.

Though he didn't look well at all. In fact, he had this red lyrium like aura around him, and it worried her. Once she got close enough, however, that became the least of her concerns.

"Andraste have mercy…you shouldn't be here—the dead should rest in peace!" Blackwall exclaimed shakily, backing away.

"It's really me and I'm definitely not dead, Blackwall," Amariel tried to sooth him, though it didn't work—he only seemed even more freaked out.

"I was there—I saw you fall! Alexius' spell left nothing but ash!" Blackwall whispered.

"You skipped over too much—look at the poor man!" Dorian chided her before turning to Blackwall. "Alexius's spell didn't kill us, it sent us forward in time, that's how we survived."

"Forward in time? I don't understand…" Blackwall said with a shake of his head.

"if we get to alexius we can go back to the moment we left and stop all this from happening

"Maybe I've just gone mad, but if what you said is true, then this…everything I've been through, everything about this nightmare, is a mistake?" Blackwall said, stepping forward with anger coloring his tone.

"I should have been here, but we'll set things right

"Now I know I've gone mad. To set all this right? You can't imagine the things that happened after you died. The Elder One had the Orlesian Empress killed, and in the chaos that followed, his demon army invaded. The Inquisition was crushed. Anyone who refused to convert was killed. There's nothing left out there…"

A shiver went down Amariel's spine as she tried to process what he was saying, and at the same time, a name came to the cusp of her lips.

 _Cullen. What of Cullen?_

But she stopped herself. "Let's make Alexius pay for what he's done," Amariel said firmly.

"Fine by me," Blackwall said with a nod, stepping out of the cell once they'd opened it so he could join them.

As they made their way across the hall adjacent to Blackwall's hall, Amariel heard another welcome voice.

Cassandra, reciting the Chant of Light.

"You've returned to us…" Cassandra said slowly as her eyes fell upon Amariel and Dorian. Blackwall stayed by the door. "Can it be? Has Andraste given us another chance? Maker forgive me, I failed you, I failed everyone! The end must truly be upon us if the dead return to life."

Amariel sighed. "I'm not back from the dead Cassandra I just got…well…it's hard to explain…" Amariel finished weakly.

"I was there! The magister obliterated you with a gesture!" Cassandra said in disbelief.

Dorian sighed. "Alexius sent us forward in time. If we find him, we may be able to return to the present."

"Go back in time? Then…can you make it so that none of this ever took place?" Cassandra asked seriously.

"If Dorian is right and can actually reverse the spell…than yes," Amariel said gently.

"None of this will happen? Andraste, please let that be true," Cassandra said, and with that they broke her out of the cell and Cassandra rejoined their party.

Now to find Leliana…and anyone else they managed to find.

They only went up one flight of stairs when Amariel's eyes fell upon the cells they hadn't explored yet, the upper cells on the right hand side. Amariel and Dorian had plunged right into the lower cells, but these…

Something in her gut screamed at Amariel to turn around, not to look, to run in the opposite direction and focus on getting out of there instead of seeing what was behind the door.

However, instead of listening to it, Amariel stepped forward as if in a trance, and carefully opened the door.

These cells were perfectly intact, and there wasn't much lyrium in here…but there was no sound, no possessions or anything in this room, other than the scuttle of the roaches upon the floor, a few of which crunched under Amariel's foot.

Why was she here? What had drawn her to this room?

Amariel slowly made her way to the end of the small room, searching the first two cells on the left and right, the cell on the right in the back…

Amariel froze when she saw the last cell, the cell in the back left that housed one prisoner, a prisoner who lay unmoving on the floor.

Her legs must have given out, because Dorian had to catch her, to support her as she stumbled forward until her hands were upon the cell door and she was fighting the lock, trying to get the door to open. Something within it was broken, and if she couldn't get it open one way she would get it another.

"Dorian, can you freeze this lock so I can break it? Or blast it or something, anything to get it open!" Amariel demanded.

"I…yes," Dorian managed to say, blasting the door open with a simple spell. Amariel rushed inside as soon as it was possible, dropping to her knees in the filth beside the broken, unconscious form of Cullen Rutherford. He hadn't even stirred at the sound of the door being blasted open.

Cullen was only a shadow of his former self. He was thin with sallow skin, eyes sunken, his only piece of clothing the torn and battered trousers, usually carefully kept hair hanging well past his ears and a small, ragged beard where there should have only been stubble. His skin sported several different kinds of injuries, and there was hardly an unmarked spot of skin. He was hardly breathing, just as he hardly moved. Torture was evident from his state of being, and Amariel dreaded to know what his state would be if she could possibly get him to wake.

With trembling hands Amariel hefted his too-light form, one that had diminished to be about her size not counting the height, into her lap, placing one hand to his cheek. He was cold as death to the touch, but he wasn't dead.

 _Not yet_ , some wicked part of her brain taunted her.

"Cullen," Amariel whispered. "Cullen, please, wake up!" Outside the cell, the others backed away to give her privacy, though Dorian remained close enough she had a reminder that they were on a time limit.

He did not stir, and Amariel began to gently rub at his cheek, jaw, and neck. "Cullen, you need to wake up!" she said a little louder and firmer. A small spark seemed to go through him, and his head turned slightly away from her palm, eyelids flickering as some croaked but unintelligible words made it past his caked lips.

Seeing she was getting somewhere, Amariel threaded fingers through his filthy hair, supporting his head. "Stay with me, Cullen, come on…" Amariel pled.

"We must move on, My Lady," came Blackwall's voice behind her, but Amariel stalwartly ignored him. Cullen's eyelids flickered, his unseeing eyes starting to move to her. Just a little more…

Amariel softened her attempts, making her motions soothing once more. "Cullen…I'm here, wake up, you're safe…" Amariel stated quietly.

Finally, his eyes, though they were only cracked open, focused on her, the brilliant amber now dulled to a nigh-lifeless color. "A…Amar…iel…" his raw, hollow voice barely whispered to the woman before him. His eyes slid closed again. "No…Im…possible…Just like…the Circle…"

"Cullen, I'm really here," Amariel said fervently. "I didn't die—I told you in my letters Alexius was controlling time. He accidentally sent us forward in time that day—we've just arrived. I'm really here!"

Cullen's eyes cracked open again. "Never…told any…one…about the…let…ters. Still…can't…be…lieve it."

Amariel felt tears starting to shimmer in her eyes, cupping his cheek gently in her palm and letting the tips of her fingers run through his hair. "I'm here, Cullen. This is real…you're safe. I'll get you out of—"

"No…"

Amariel stared at him. "Cullen…"

"Won't…make it," Cullen said, his barely-there voice becoming distant. "Real…or…not…this is…the per…fect…way…to… _die_ …"

"Cullen, don't say that, you'll be fine…" Amariel tried to say, though she found her throat closing, resolve shaking.

"Ama...ri…el…Know…I…" Cullen tried to say, but his words and head grew heavy, and his last sigh of life slipped past his lips before he could form his next word.

Something in Amariel cracked as Cullen went limp in her arms and she simply sat there, tears streaming down her face silently but freely as her brain reeled and struggled to process what was happening to her. Someone gently touched her arm, trying to snap her out of it, but she didn't respond, and they tried to shake her to get her attention. Again, she didn't respond, simply stayed stalwart by Cullen, refusing to move.

The hand disappeared, and suddenly there was another face across from her, gazing at her intently but with pained sympathy.

Dorian.

"We have to go…" he said, his words seeming to come through a fog. "We have to go so this never happens. To them, to him, to anyone," Dorian emphasized.

Right…Cullen…Cullen could still be saved, everyone could still be saved. But she had to leave this Cullen first. Mutely, Amariel nodded, though she struggled to put Cullen down—she couldn't, not on her own. So Dorian reached out and gently pulled the man from her arms, her hold on the broken dead man lingering until he was too far from reach, at which point she subconsciously wiped away her tears.

Yes…they had to move forward…for everyone's sakes.

Staring down at Cullen for a few more long moments, Amariel managed to turn away. The other two weren't looking her in the eyes.

"We need to find Leliana…and get us back," Amariel said quietly. No one said anything, but no one argued, so they all left and made their way to the main hall of the prisons once more so they could search the last branch for their answers and their way out.

When they came into the main hall where four guards awaited them, Amariel didn't even think—she threw herself at the guards in a blind rage, her blades moving too fast for her own mind to register what she was doing. Dorian pelted them with spells of his own behind her, and when two soldiers had fallen Cassandra and Blackwall raided the bodies for the weapons and shields. By then, Amariel and Dorian had already handled the guards, and they were ready to move forward.

Again, no one said anything. They only moved in solemn silence searching for Leliana.

Eventually, the sound of shouted answers, sarcastic replies, and cries of pain reached their ears, and the group hurried their step, barging inside the room where the noises were coming from to see a sallow skinned Leliana that nearly looked as bad as Cullen had strung up with a torturer before her. She looked beyond the man to the door, then suddenly wrapped her arms around the guard, snapping his neck.

"You're alive…" Leliana whispered as Amariel unchained her and helped her down.

"We never died in the first place. Alexius miscalculated," Amariel stated solemnly, her tone holding an edge of deadly coldness that hadn't been their previously.

"Then it will be his last mistake," Leliana said just as coldly. "Do you have weapons?"

Amariel nodded, and Leliana turned to fish a bow and arrows from a large trunk in the corner. "Good. The magister's probably in his chambers."

Dorian, who was lingering by the doorway, stepped up. "You…aren't curious how we got here?"

"No," Leliana said flatly.

"Alexius sent us into the future. This, his victory, his Elder One—it was never meant to be," Dorian explained anyway.

"I need to find Alexius and reverse the spell," Amariel finished.

"If we can get back to our present time, we can prevent this future from ever happening."

"And mages always wonder why people fear them. No one should have this power," Leliana said in a deathly serious voice.

"Its dangerous and unpredictable. Before the breach, nothing we did—" Dorian started to say, though he was quickly cut off by an angry Leliana.

"Enough! This is all pretend to you, some future you hope will never exist! I suffered, the whole world suffered. It was real."

"It is real to me, Leliana," Amariel said with a cold glint in her eyes. "And I'm never going to forget any of this—never."

Before Leliana could try to argue with her, Amariel turned and led the group out of the torture chamber, Cullen's death at the front of her mind.

* * *

It took much running around to get to Alexius—he'd devised some sort of lock on the door that required red lyrium shards that the group had to hunt down, pieces that were scattered across the castle. It was trying, but it was worth it if they were going to get at Alexius.

As they entered the throne room, Alexius didn't even turn, didn't even give them any kind of acknowledgement. Amariel didn't know what to feel—she felt too much to know for certain.

To her surprise, it was her pain that rose to the surface.

"Look at what you've done, Alexius—all this suffering! And for what…" Amariel stated, her voice echoing around the room.

"For my chantry for my son but it means nothing now I knew that you would appear again, not that it would be now, but I knew I hadn't destroyed you. My _final_ failure…" Alexius said in a soft voice. Dorian was the one to speak next.

"Was it worth it, everything that you did to the world, to yourself?" Dorian asked angrily.

"It doesn't matter now. All we can do is wait for the end," Alexius stated, sounding like a broken man.

"It does matter," Amariel said vehemently. "I _will_ undo this!"

"How many times have I tried the past cannot be undone…All that I fought for, all that I betrayed and what have I wrought? Ruin and death, there is nothing else. The Elder One comes; for you, for me, for us all."

Just then, Leliana, who no one had been watching, appeared behind the ragged person at Alexius' side, hefting him up and putting a blade to the person's throat.

"Felix!" Alexius exclaimed.

"That's Felix? Maker's breath, Alexius, what have you done?" Dorian demanded angrily.

"He would have died, Dorian! I saved him…" Alexius said pathetically before turning to Leliana. "Please, don't hurt my son. I'll do anything you ask."

Amariel felt her heart skip a beat. If Leliana didn't let Felix go, there would be a blood bath they didn't have time for—they needed to get out while they had the chance. "Leliana, let Felix go: he's innocent."

"No one is innocent," Leliana hissed before slitting Felix's throat.

"No…" Alexius whispered. Then, in a blind rage, he roared. "No!"

And so, as Leliana flew through the air with a blast of magic from Alexius, the battle began.

Amariel, Blackwall, and Cassandra all charged Alexius while Dorian stayed back, peppering Alexius from a distance and working to protect the others. Blackwall used his shield to protect Amariel from a blast of fire that Alexius sent at her while Cassandra charged to bash him with her shield. She was stopped short for a few moments when Alexius created a wall of us in front of her, though Dorian blasted it to smithereens with a well placed fireball. Alexius had backed away by then and, to Amariel'a frustration, opened a rift within the room before shielding himself. They were forced to turn their attention to the demons now pouring through the rift, though Dorian did lend some of his attention to weakening Alexius' shield.

As soon as she had the chance, Amariel stepped up and shoved her hand to the rift, focusing on closing it while Blackwall kept her shielded. Cassandra covered Leliana, who put arrow after arrow into the demons around them. The rift closed with a shockwave that shattered Alexius' shield, and all five of them instantly converged upon Alexius, the man throwing spell after spell at them to keep them off of him.

It was Blackwall that took the man's life, landing the fatal blow to Alexius' chest while keeping Amariel covered with his shield. As soon as the man was dead, Dorian made his way to him, kneeling down beside his fallen form.

"He wanted to die, didn't he? All those lies he told himself, the justifications…he lost Felix long ago and didn't even notice. Oh, Alexius."

As angry as she was with Alexius…Dorian's words brought her compassion back, even if it was a flickering flame at the moment. "This Alexius was too far gone, but the Alexius in our time might still be reasoned with," Amariel pointed out. Dorian could hold to that, just as Amariel was holding to the fact that everyone was still alive in their time.

"I suppose that's true," Dorian mused before he got to work. "This is the same amulet he used before. I think it's the same one we made in Minrathos. That's a relief. Give me an hour to work out the spell he used, and I should be able to reopen the rift."

Leliana ran up to them, her face serious. "An hour? That's impossible! You must go now."

Up above them, outside the castle, the sound of a dragon screech pierced the air, and the ground and castle shook and began to drop rocks.

"The Elder One," Leliana breathed.

"There's a reason they won," Blackwall said grimly. He looked to Cassandra, and the two had a moment of silent communication before Cassandra nodded, and Blackwall turned back to face everyone. "We'll go on ahead, take out as many as we can. Leliana, you're the last line of defense—give them what you've got…"

Amariel sucked in a sharp breath, emotions rising high enough she thought she might faint. "I can't let you kill yourselves for me—there must be another way!"

"Look at us, we're already dead," Leliana said solemnly. "The only way we live is if this day never comes. Cast your spell—you have as much time as I have arrows."

Amariel reluctantly watched them go, Blackwall and Cassandra walking out the door while Leliana stood planted before it, arrow knocked and ready for whatever came through, whenever it came through. Dorian worked his magic, and Amariel stood torn two feet from him, casting her gaze back to Leliana.

There was the sound of bodies hitting the doors, and Amariel felt her heart stop beating. Down closer to the door, Leliana started to chant softly.

"Though darkness closes I am shielded by flame," Leliana whispered, drawing her bow. The door was kicked open, and Leliana began to let lose her arrows even as Blackwall's body lifelessly hit the floor inside. "Andraste guide me, Maker, take me to your side!"

Leliana let loose a few more arrows, then cried out in pain as an arrow lodged in her shoulder. Amariel started forward, her entire being screaming at her not to just stand there as Leliana ran out of arrows and began fighting with her bow. Dorian seized her arm, holding her back.

"You move and we all die!" he shouted at her, and Amariel was pulled back to what he was doing, Dorian now rushing to finish the spell. She looked back, locking gazes with Leliana as she was pulled into the grasp of a demon and…

A desperate sound of agony ripped through Amariel, but Dorian was finished. He grabbed Amariel's arm again, and before she could register what was happening, they had stepped through the breach.


	4. Chapter 4: Scars

_**Have I mentioned I'm happy to have Dorian in this story finally? Finally? (I love Dorian) Anyway, New chapter, yaaaaaaaayyyy, and the story now has a cover photo, yaaaaaaayyyy!**_

 _ **And still no reviews lol even though reviews are one of my favorite parts. Spread the story guys, please give it some love :) Please review!**_

 _ **Enjoy!**_

* * *

"You'll have to do better than that," Dorian said smugly as they landed back in their own time, turning to face Alexius. Amariel stared down at the man, still reeling even as Alexius fell to his knees.

So much to cope with, and with no real way to cope with it. How was one supposed to live with what she'd just experienced?

But right now…right now she couldn't feel. Right now she needed to be Herald, she needed to seize the situation, and everyone was looking at her expectantly. To them, hardly anything had happened.

For her and Dorian…they'd just watched the world die.

Drawing on her anger, Amariel stared at Alexius, who had literally keeled over when they arrived. It was…disappointing. Part of her had hoped for a struggle so she could work out some of her pent up emotions. "Is that the best you've got?"

"You've won…There is no point extending this charade," Alexius whispered, then looked to his son. "Felix," he whispered.

The young man crouched down in front of Alexius. "It's going to be all right, Father."

"You'll die," Alexius mourned.

"Everyone dies," Felix reminded him gently. Inquisition guards approached Alexius, who rose to his feet and went willingly with them. Dorian came to stand at Amariel's side.

"Well, I'm glad that's over with," Dorian said with a smile, though his eyes were probing, probably trying to gauge Amariel's own emotional state. He didn't get much of a chance to do so, as the sudden sound of unified marching filled the room, and fully armored men entered the room, lining up perfectly along either side of the pillars.

"Or not," Dorian amended with a frown.

"Grand Enchanter Fiona!" came an angry female voice, and a woman Amariel did not recognize entered. However, the now-quivering Fiona's words quickly answered that for her.

"Queen Anora!" Fiona said as she bowed and slowly shuffled forward. Anora's cold gaze did not waver from Fiona.

"When I granted your mages sanctuary, I thought it was understood that they would not force my people from their homes!"

"Your Majesty, let me assure you, we never intended any of this!"

"Your intentions ceased to matter when my people were threatened! I am rescinding my offer of sanctuary. You and your followers will leave Ferelden at once."

"But we have hundreds who need protection! Where will we go?"

Amariel chose that moment to step forward, unwilling to see the poor woman suffer when she'd been manipulated so. She came to a stop at Fiona's side, catching the woman's gaze and holding it. "The Inquisition might be willing to take in the mages," she said gently.

"And what are the terms of this arrangement?" Fiona said cautiously.

"Hopefully better than what Alexius gave you," Dorian quipped as he too stepped forward, though he was still a few paces behind Amariel. "The Inquisition is better than that, yes?"

"I suggest conscripting them—they've proven what they'll do given too much freedom," Cassandra said tersely. Blackwall shook his head in immediate disagreement.

"No one fights well for their captors," he said flatly.

"It seems we have little choice but to accept whatever you offer," Fiona said with a sigh, straitening as she waited for Amariel's answer.

"We would be honored to have you fight as allies at the Inquisition's side," Amariel said, managing to give the woman a smile, even if it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"We'll discuss this later," Cassandra said in obvious disapproval.

"I pray that the rest of the Inquisition honors your promise, then," Fiona replied.

"The Breach threatens all of Thedas. We cannot afford to be divided now. We can't fight it without you. Any chance at success requires our full support," Amariel explained. Anora chose that moment to speak again, her voice still cold.

"Whether you accept the Inquisition's alliance or not, you will leave my kingdom," she told Fiona, who bowed and then turned back to Amariel as Anora and her guards left.

"We accept—it would be madness not to. I will gather my people and ready them for the journey to Haven. The breach will be closed—you will not regret giving us this chance," Fiona promised.

"I know I won't," Amariel returned, keeping her smile in place until Fiona had left. At that point her shoulders slumped and a weary sigh escaped her. Not yet…she didn't have time yet. "Come on—let's get out of here."

* * *

The ride back to Haven was a quiet one. Cassandra and Blackwall seemed to sense the somber moods of Dorian and Amariel and let them have their privacy. Dorian rode beside Amariel, lending quiet support. Eventually, he decided to break their companionable silence.

"How are you faring?" he asked her softly so the others wouldn't hear.

"Not well at all," Amariel responded, her voice barely heard even though the only sound was birds singing and the clack of their horses' hooves against the ground. "But I can't very well appear like that now. No one knows—truly _knows_ —what we saw and some of it is going to remain that way. Besides…they're expecting their Herald to triumphantly and confidently ride in—I don't get the luxury of trying to cope with what I saw. Not yet, anyway. For now…it has to stay locked away."

"You know, I've heard bottling emotions like that is not healthy for anyone," Dorian mused.

"Perhaps not…but it's what I need to do for now, until I get some time alone."

Dorian sighed, ceding. "All right—just make sure you do find time to…sort through everything. I don't think it's wise to put this off," Dorian advised her. She didn't answer him, and he didn't press for more.

Nevertheless, she was grateful for his continued companionship, and he stayed close for their entire trip to Haven.

* * *

Despite how upset Cullen was over the terms of the mages helping the Inquisition, when Cullen saw Amariel and her party arrive he felt true concern. She wasn't worn like she had been on her return from the Mire, but this time…there was a slump to her shoulders, and a look in her eyes absent of their usual fire that reminded Cullen strongly of the look he had seen in his own reflection many a time.

Shoving aside his disagreements in favor of his concern, Cullen started to approach Amariel's party as Amariel half-heartedly soothed her tired and uneasy horse. However, before he could even come close enough for Amariel to notice him Dorian was at her side, soothing her horse and helping her down with the tenderness of someone holding a fragile artifact from thousands of years ago. Cullen stopped, observing them with the flickers of jealousy appearing within him. In such a short span of time, the two seemed to have already grown close—perhaps closer than Cullen considered himself and Amariel to be at present.

Even now, Dorian spoke to her quietly at such a close proximity, his serious and concerned gaze fixed on Amariel, who seemed to be listening to everything he said even though her gaze was cast to the ground, subconsciously leaning closer to the Tevinter.

Suddenly wanting to be somewhere else, and feeling his mood sour, Cullen turned and made his way to the Chantry, knowing that there was plenty to be done—plenty that would keep his mind occupied.

* * *

Dorian had stopped Amariel for a small pick-me-up upon their arrival in Haven, one Amariel desperately needed. With a few pointed, soothing words the mage was able to slightly lift Amariel's spirits (mostly by reminding her they could make things right) and bolster her enough that Amariel was prepared to face everything that still needed to be done. Then, like Dorian suggested, she would seek out the time she desperately needed to cope.

Knowing that it was best to move now so that she didn't accidentally set herself off course, Amariel made her way through Haven, doing her best to keep her strong persona in place. She entered the Chantry doors and, much to her dismay, immediately heard arguing.

It would be even harder to keep her façade in place if Leliana, Josephine, Cassandra and…Cullen…were arguing.

Andraste preserve her, she was about to come face to face with Cullen. Could she look him in the eyes after he'd died in her arms? It was already…strangely painful and soothing to hear his voice, strong and lively as ever—especially now as he argued with the others.

"It's not a matter for debate—there will be abominations among the mages and we must be prepared!" Cullen was saying forcefully to Josephine and Leliana.

"If we rescind the offer of an alliance, it makes the Inquisition appear incompetent at best, tyrannical at worst!" Josephine retorted as Amariel came even with them. To Amariel's shock, Cullen quickly turned on her.

"What were you thinking turning mages loose with no oversight—the veil is torn open!" Cullen fumed. Amariel felt like he'd slapped her, her brain trying to compute his anger at her—she already had yet to deal with what had happened in the future Redcliffe, and now he was mad at her?

Unfortunately, one of her more defensive traits kicked in, and she bit back. "They're not monsters—they're people, and they deserve the same respect as anyone else."

"This is not about respect," Cullen growled. "Even the strongest mages are susceptible to possession!"

Cullen turned his wrath away from Amariel at that point, instead directing his frustrations towards Cassandra. "You were there, Seeker—why didn't _you_ intervene?"

"While I may not completely agree with the decision, I support it. The sole point of the Herald's mission was to gain the mage's aid, and that was accomplished," Cassandra said in a surprisingly calm voice, looking towards Amariel. A new voice spoke from the shadows, and it was a welcome voice indeed.

At least someone was here who knew of her inner turmoil enough they wouldn't add to it.

"The voice of pragmatism speaks," Dorian stated, approaching their group and leaning against a beam a few paces away. "And here I was just starting to enjoy the circular arguments…"

"Closing the breach is all that matters," Cassandra said flatly, turning her back on Dorian and turning back to the main group. Amariel held Dorian's gaze for a few moments, then spoke once more.

"I got a taste of the consequences if we fail—let's make sure we don't," Amariel said softly.

"We will not fail," Cassandra informed her gently, offering Amariel a gentle smile. Amariel was grateful—she needed it right now.

"We should look into the things you saw in this dark future. The assassination of Empress Celine? A demon army?" Leliana stated in concern.

"Sounds like something a Tevinter cult might do," Dorian said in an amused tone that suggested everything was quite funny to him. "Orlais falls, the Imperium Rises! Chaos for everyone."

"One battle at a time," Cullen chided them, stepping in once more. "It's going to take time to organize our troops and the mage recruits. We must take this to the war room."

He looked to Amariel, who had managed to get a tight rein on her emotions once more. Thankfully, his voice was much softer this time, a small smile tugging at his lips now that he'd cooled down and the discussion had moved away from the mages. "Join us. None of this means anything without your mark after all."

Put a little more at ease by Cullen's gentler approach now, Amariel managed to return the smile and even answered with an attempt at a joke. "And I'd hoped to sit out the assault on the breach—take a nap, maybe go for a walk."

Cullen's smile became much more noticeable. "What is it they say? No rest for the wicked?"

"Meet us there when you're ready," Josephine told her, steering the conversation back to seriousness.

"I'll skip the war council, but I would like to see this breach up close, if you don't mind," Dorian said nonchalantly, a lazy smile playing across his face. Amariel felt herself start to brighten with hope at his words.

"Then you're staying?"

"Oh, didn't I mention? The south is so charming and rustic. I adore it to little pieces," Dorian drawled, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"There's no one I'd rather be stranded in time with—future or present," Amariel told him gently.

"Excellent choice but let's not get stranded again any time soon, yes?" Dorian asked with an arched brow. Cullen chose that moment to cut in and divert their attention back to the present, and Amariel was surprised to hear a…brisk edge to his voice. It was hard to catch, but it was there.

He'd been fine a few minutes ago…

"I'll begin preparations to march on the summit. Maker willing, the mages will be enough to grant us victory," Cullen stated, and then the council started to make their way to the war meeting.

Dorian came to stand beside Amariel, waiting until the other four were actually in the room to speak to her. "You should probably go ahead and get in there, make your preparations. Then, while everyone's running around like they've lost their heads trying to get ready, you can slip away for some quiet. I'll cover for you," Dorian said with a wink.

Amariel managed a weak smile. "I actually like the sound of that plan, Dorian…thank you."

Dorian chuckled. "All right, now move along—don't get all mushy on me, I can tell when someone's getting there. Go discuss your many important things. I'll see you later," Dorian chided her before he turned and left the Chantry.

Sighing, Amariel turned to approach the war room, knowing that the sooner she got it over with, the sooner she was free to seek some privacy. She pushed the doors open to see everyone around the table pouring over several new markers and discussing how they would organize the Inquisition's forces to march on the breach. Amariel kept her head held high as she entered, keeping her façade carefully in place.

"So, what progress was made here while I was gone?" Amariel asked.

"Well, Lord Kildarn is not…pleased with our denial to aid him against the refugees and claims that we have given him a death sentence," Josephine said grimly. Amariel sighed.

"He asks me to expunge elves and mages—did he not realize I'm an elf myself? A Dalish Elf, on top of that." Amariel shook her head. "Well, at least we don't have to deal with that anymore. Leliana, what did you find on the coast?"

"Something of great interest," Leliana said with a pleased smile. "An untouched vault that was a retreat of one of Andraste's last disciples, and most of what is within remains untouched. It will take some time to sort through everything, but it will be worth it."

"No word yet on who has claimed the throne in Lydes, but we should be hearing from them soon," Cullen told Amariel. She nodded, keeping her gaze down on the table. She was curious to see a marker on Starkhaven, placing a nimble finger upon it's tip.

"What's going on in Starkhaven?"

"Actually, Starkhaven has reached out to us," Josephine informed her. "Prince Sebastian Vael has taken control of the throne, and has extended a hand of friendship to the Inquisition. I can send emissaries. Though the Free Marches cities have always been independent, earning the support of the most prosperous ones may be to our advantage."

"Sebastian Vael? The same Sebastian who's with Kirkwall's Champion? By all means, Josephine, send those emissaries," Amariel said in surprise, though it was a welcome one. "Now that we've settled that…shall we prepare to march on the breach?"

"We can begin to mobilize immediately, My Lady," Cullen told her instantly.

"Then let us begin. As soon as we're ready, we'll move out," Amariel said seriously. They all gave a respectful bow of the head before, one by one, they filed out of the room.

Feeling like she still needed to get some pent up feelings out before she sought solitude, Amariel made her way to the smith's setup so that she could help make some new armor and weapons for her group. Who knew what assaulting the breach would bring, and Maker knew they were all due for an upgrade of equipment.

* * *

After crafting—with Harritt's help—new swords for Blackwall and Cassandra, a new coat and staff for Dorian, a new shield for Blackwall, and a new grip for her bow, Amariel ran out of materials to make anything else, and knew she'd have to wait for another time. She wearily informed Harritt what went to who, then quietly left the smith's shop to go down by the lake. She was able to disappear from all prying eyes down here, hidden from view of everyone by the hills even though she sat at the far end of a low dock not far from one of their trebuchets. Her breath created small puffs of air before her, something she ignored, and the cold breeze she hardly paid any attention to.

Now, hunched over at the end of the dock, she could allow herself to crack, then break, and begin to weep.

* * *

"Commander—the trebuchets have been completed and are awaiting your approval."

Cullen nodded to the soldier who gave him the report. "I'll be there in a moment," he promised, watching the recruits for a few more moments before he turned in the direction of the left trebuchet, starting on the short path to the large weapon. He'd just started to pass the smith when he heard someone call for his attention.

"Oh Commander!"

Cullen turned to see Dorian stepping out of the smith, wearing a new coat and with a new staff in hand. The mage was in front of him within moments, pressing something into Cullen's chest before Cullen could realize what was happening.

"You'll need that," Dorian told him with a knowing smirk. Cullen looked down to find a thick blanket in his arms, but before he could ask Dorian what he was possibly talking about the mage left, whistling to himself as he headed back to the heart of Haven.

Cullen scowled. Mages.

Holding the blanket he was now stuck with until he could pawn it off on someone else loosely in his hands, Cullen continued on his way to the trebuchet. He was almost there when something out of place at the docks caught his attention out of the corner of his eyes, and he turned.

Someone was sitting hunched up by themselves at the edge of the dock, but not just anyone—Amariel.

Blinking in surprise, Cullen glanced down at the blanket in his hands.

 _You'll need that_.

Wondering what the mage's intent was, but knowing better than to simply walk by with a warm blanket when a lady was shivering in the cold—Cullen could see the shake in her shoulders from here—and seeing an opportunity to speak with her alone about what had happened, Cullen decided not to bother himself with Dorian's intentions for now and focus on Amariel.

The trebuchets could wait a little longer.

Quietly, Cullen made his way to the dock, managing to keep his footsteps light as he unfolded the blanket. Coming to a stop just behind Amariel, he kneeled down and carefully wrapped the blanket around her.

Amariel jumped at the unexpected contact, her chin and jaw lightly connecting with Cullen's hand as she turned just enough to see who was there before turning away again, hunkering down into the blanket and drawing it closer around herself with a murmured 'thank you'. As Cullen drew his hand away, he noticed the shine of his now slightly wet glove where her face had met the smooth leather.

"Are you all right?" he asked in quiet concern. Amariel didn't answer for a few moments, and Cullen was sure she was trying to discreetly wipe away tears.

"I…will be, I hope," Amariel replied in a soft voice.

Cullen chewed on his words for a few moments, trying to find the right thing to say. "Is this about what happened at Redcliffe?" Cullen asked carefully. Amariel hesitated.

"Yes," she eventually admitted.

"Is it something you're willing to talk about?" Cullen pressed cautiously. Amariel's entire frame seemed to flinch at the question, and he knew the answer before she said it.

"No, not this."

A silence settled between them, and Cullen hated how useless he felt at the moment.

"Is there anything I can do?" Cullen asked. Amariel gave him no answer, and eventually he stood to leave.

"Stay," came Amariel's suddenly clear voice as soon as he prepared to go. "Please."

Cullen felt her softly pled words pull at his heartstrings, and he couldn't deny her, returning to his crouched position just behind her. "I can do that, for a little while."

"That's all I need," Amariel replied, her voice so low Cullen barely caught it, but no matter how softly spoken her words were they brought a warmth to his heart.

The two sat in comfortable silence for a while, Cullen watching as the trembling of her shoulders slowly subsided. He didn't know how much time had passed, and he found himself not really caring.

Eventually, Amariel shifted, calling Cullen's attention immediately to her as her face—free of tears—turned to face him a little more.

"Cullen…" Amariel started softly. "I know you're worried about having the mages here…but give them a chance to prove themselves."

Cullen blinked—he hadn't been expecting that now. However, he was not without an answer. "I'm not questioning their ability or their attention, but we can't ignore the risks," Cullen said in a serious, gentle voice. He softened his tone even more as he continued. "I will not endanger the alliance you've created. Any precautions taken will be to ensure the safety of our people and the mages themselves, nothing more."

Amariel nodded. "I believe you…I trust you," Amariel replied quietly.

"I'm glad to hear it," Cullen said graciously. He let the silence return for a few moments before he spoke again. "The troops will be ready to march when you are—take all the time you need."

Amariel sighed, slowly getting to her feet. "I've taken enough time as it is—I've had my intermission, and I'm as good as I'm going to get. It's probably time to stop moping and get back to work."

Cullen stood as well, holding her gaze. "You're not a machine, Amariel—there's nothing wrong with catching your breath when you need to."

Amariel gave him a true smile, which put him at ease, and he saw that fire starting to return to her eyes. "Thank you, Cullen. I'm ready to march whenever your men are."

Cullen gave her a small bow. "Of course, My Lady."

* * *

As they reached the Temple, Cullen and his men hung back at what was considered a safe distance from the temple while Amariel, Cassandra, Solas, Dorian, and all of the mages went inside. The breach shone like a grim beacon above them, and all of the mages' best took their positions, Cassandra, Dorian and Solas standing before them. Amariel's hand sparked, and she looked at it idly for a few moments before she started forward towards the breach.

"Mages!" Cassandra called.

"Focus past the Herald! Let her will draw from you!" Solas commanded, staff held high.

As they rallied the mages, Amariel continued forward, eyes locked on the breach before her. The wind seemed to pick up, her sparking hand picked up in intensity, and it became harder and harder to reach the center of the breach, but she pushed on, teeth grit. This was what they had worked to do, and she would accomplish it no matter how difficult it was.

Behind her, one by one, all of the mages present lent her their power, and Amariel felt invigorated, shoving her hand skyward once she was at the center of the breach. Brilliant green lightning seemed to flow from her hand all the way to the rift that was the source of the hole in the sky, a dazzling arch that caused the entire rift to fluctuate until there was a blinding flash of light and a shockwave that knocked everyone to the ground.

Grunts filled the air as one by one they all rose to their feet, though Amariel remained crouched where she was, staring at her faintly sparking hand. She realized there were eyes upon her and rose, turning to find Cassandra right at her side.

"You did it," Cassandra said, the relief obvious in her voice. Cheers started to echo through the temple, and once the sound carried to those outside, Amariel could hear the men stationed with Cullen outside of the temple give triumphant cheers as well.

For all she knew, the cheers carried all the way down to Haven.

So why did she feel so uneasy?

* * *

When they returned to Haven, a celebration broke out. All throughout the town the villagers danced, music played, drinks were shared…Amariel smiled faintly to herself to see the festivities as people roared with laughter and enjoyed the company of friends. However, she stayed to herself, staying by the darkness of the requisition table in front of the Chantry.

She still felt uneasy, and despite their victory, Amariel's cautious eyes were alert to all her surroundings.

Footsteps crunched behind her, and Amariel turned from her perch upon a few logs to see Cassandra approaching her.

"Solas confirms the heavens are scarred, but calm. The breach is sealed," Cassandra reported with a smile, coming to a stop beside Amariel. "We've reports of lingering rifts, and many questions remain, but this was a victory. Word of your heroism has spread."

Amariel shook her head, her brow furrowed with worry. "We don't know what caused this—we can't rest easy…"

"I agree. One success does not guarantee peace. The immediate danger is gone, for some so is the necessity for this alliance. We must be weary—the Inquisition will need new focus."

No sooner had Cassandra begun to speak did a mass of lights suddenly start to flicker to life along the mountain pass, and warning bells began to ring loud and clear. Above all the immediate noise and confusion, Amariel heard Cullen's voice.

"Forces approaching! To arms!"

Cassandra was surprised, though Amariel…only partially. This was perhaps what had kept her so on edge, some sixth sense warning her that danger was coming.

"What is—we must get to the gates!" Cassandra commanded. As she spoke, Dorian and Blackwall quickly approached.

"Perhaps assaulting the sky drew some attention," Blackwall said darkly.

"Never a dull moment for you lot, is there?" Dorian asked cheekily. Amariel shook her head.

"Come on, we have to figure out what's going on!" she ordered, already drawing her daggers as she rushed forward, leaping over any obstacle in her way to get to the gates where Cullen stood waiting.

"Cullen?" Cassandra called breathlessly as they approached.

"One watchguard reporting—it's a massive force, the bulk over the mountain," Cullen stated seriously, gesturing in the direction the force was coming.

"Under what banner?" Josephine asked as she arrived.

"None."

"None?"

There was a few moments silence as Amariel approached the door cautiously, listening to the sounds of fighting outside.

But all of their forces were _inside_.

There was a flash of light, and a thud against the door…and then a youthful voice reached her, one that threw Amariel off for a few seconds.

"I can't come in unless you open!" the voice called desperately.

"Open the gate," Amariel commanded, two guards rushing forward to do so. As soon as the doors had been pried open Amariel was stepping through, and she heard several blades unsheathe. To her surprise, it was Cullen that immediately appeared at her side with sword drawn, ready to protect. Dorian stayed a few paces behind, staff held at the ready, and Blackwall in between the two with sword and shield held in a firm grip.

A mammoth of a man in full armor was the first thing Amariel saw, and she crouched ready for a fight. However, the sound of a blade slipping through the chinks in the man's armor reached her ears, and he arched, falling to the ground to reveal a young man who's face was hidden by a hat with a very large and drooping rim.

Amariel relaxed slightly, as did Cullen, when the young man began to speak. The voice who'd called for them to open the gates.

"I'm Cole—I came to warn you, to help," the young man—cole—said quickly, approaching her in two quick strides. "People are coming to hurt you. You probably already know…"

"What is this?" Amariel asked quickly, cutting him off. "What's going on?"

"The Templars come to kill you…" Cole said softly. Amariel heard a sharp intake of breath off to her side, and suddenly there was a furious Cullen at her side.

"Templars?" he thundered in a voice that made Cole jump and back away a step or two. Cullen's voice was only slightly softer for Amariel's sake as he turned to her, now incredulous. "Is this the Order's response to our talks with the mages? Attacking _blindly_?"

"The Red Templars went to The Elder One. You know him? He knows you—you took his mages," Cole said, his mannerisms coming off as slightly…creepy to Amariel, though she didn't put too much thought into it. He wasn't threatening so much as odd.

Besides, the title The Elder One had caught her attention.

Suddenly, Cole stretched a finger in the direction of the hills, pointing to a figure on a hill that was being approached by another. "There…The Elder One…"

Cullen and Amariel both looked to where Cole was pointing, and Amariel saw Cullen's surprise out of the corner of her eye. "I know that man…but this Elder One…" Cullen said so softly Amariel almost didn't catch it. She was too busy staring at the one Cole proclaimed was The Elder One she'd heard of.

It was horrifying to look at him, with his tall and slender, warped frame that was punctuated and distorted by large shards of red lyrium. She couldn't make out much more from this distance, but what she did see she didn't like.

"He's very angry that you took his mages," Cole said in an eerily calm voice. Amariel shook her head, turning to Cullen and taking one step closer to the man.

"Cullen, give me a plan—anything!"

Cullen shook his head, and Amariel could see the gears turning in his head. "Haven is no fortress—if we are to withstand this monster we must control the battle." He pointed to the trebuchets. "Get out there and hit that force—use everything you can," Cullen informed her. His gaze lingered on her for a few moments before he turned back to the small group of soldiers that was slowly gathering and increasing in number, hefting his sword high.

"Mages! You! You have sanction to engage them! That is Sampson—he will not make it easy! Inquisition! With the Herald! For your lives, for all of us!" Cullen shouted, rousing the men to a thunderous roar. Amariel saw Solas and Vivianne join the other mages to help, Bull and the Chargers joined the footsoldiers, and up on the wall, Sera and Verric were taking positions to be the expert archers they were.

Amariel and her three companions made a break for the north trebuchet.

* * *

Amariel was only within Cullen's range of vision while she was at the north trebuchet. He had yet to see her in action, and tonight she did not disappoint. She moved so fast around the distorted Red Templars and demonic creatures he hoped weren't formal Templars it was hard to keep an eye on her, though the one glowing enchanted blade she'd found while at Redcliffe made it slightly easier to spot.

She did her best to defend the men with her, though one by one they were falling to the onslaught of Templars. All that was left of the men Cullen had sent her was one, and she stayed close to his side in an effort to defend him.

And Cullen could not spare any more to assist her.

Still, her party was strong, and despite the three waves they'd been hit with they were still envigored and ready for the fight. Though now, as she ran to the other trebuchet, Cullen felt concern once more. She would be out of sight there, and if she needed help, they would not know.

 _Maker watch over us all…_

* * *

A band of the Templars had overrun the other trebuchet, but Amariel was not deterred. Her group plowed forward, clashing immediately with the Templars. Once they'd dealt with those who had already been there, Amariel jumped to the Trebuchet and began to prepare and calibrate it as fast as she dared. She was halfway there when more Templars appeared.

"Keep them off of me!" she shouted. The others immediately formed as much of a defensive circle as they could around her, Dorian standing right beside her as the Red Templars arrived. Amariel did her best to ignore them, though when an arrow soared right past her ear she broke away from the trebuchet to race towards the offending archer, weaving in and out of the other fights to quickly bury her daggers into the archer's collar. He'd been flanked by two of the warped creatures, though, so she couldn't return to the trebuchet until she'd managed to put them down as well. As soon as she was free from her fight she raced back to the trebuchet, and within moments the weapon was functional, and she pulled the lever, hurling it's rock right into the mountain.

An avalance quickly formed, thundering down the side of the mountain and covering all of the Templar troops that had been marching their way. Cheering immediately broke out throughout the battlefield, and Amariel allowed herself a smile.

Until there was suddenly a screech from high in the air. Amariel hunkered down, eyes searching the sky for the offender. She only managed to catch a glimpse of it headed right towards them before a fireball exploded the trebuchet and sent them all flying, ears ringing.

A dragon.

Amariel, Cassandra, Dorian, and Blackwall all staggered to their feet, covered in soot and scratches.

"We can't face it here, we have to…do something!" Cassandra said desperately.

 _But not right now_ , Amariel thought firmly. "Everyone, to the gates!" she shouted, daggers in hand once more as she started in a sprint for the gates of Haven. She slowed down when someone called her title, then noticed Harritt struggling with a door obstructed by several wooden crates. The building was on fire.

She got the idea.

"Help me with this door!" he called, and by the time he'd finished she was already there, ripping into the crate with her daggers and obliterating it so that everything could be shoved out of the way.

"Get to the gate," she commanded him as she herself rushed on.

"Don't worry, I won't die for the forge," Harritt assured her before she'd moved past him.

"Move it, move it!" Cullen was shouting by the gates, gesturing everyone inside. Amariel and her party raced through, followed by a few stragglers—including Harritt—and the door was closed just as the dragon soared overhead once more. Cullen raced up the steps, speaking in aggravated tones to Amariel. "We need everyone back to the Chantry, it's the only building that might hold against…that beast!" Cullen fumed, turning to face her near the top. "At this point, just make them work for it," he said darkly before he turned to spread the word to everyone scattered through the town.

Amariel turned to the others. "You heard him—let's make sure everyone gets there safely," Amariel said grimly.

It was difficult to save everyone with the Red Templars everywhere—she knew of at least two that they had been unable to reach through the hoard of Templars in time to save them—but they had managed to save some, even with a dragon overhead spewing fireballs.

They would do everything they could.

But first they needed to regroup at the Chantry. Hopefully Cullen would have some sort of solution for them by now.

Hopefully.

The doors to the Chantry were flung open, and Amariel was surprised to see Cole and Roderick together, with Roderick looking like he'd tried to take on the dragon and failed miserably.

"Move! Keep going! The Chantry is your shelter!" Roderick called as those who were left—mostly soldiers—raced inside. As soon as the doors closed, all Amariel could hear were noises of fright and pain.

Behind her, Roderick collapsed, Cole barely catching him and wrapping the man's arm around his shoulder to support him. Amariel took a concerned step forward. "He tried to stop a Templar," Cole told her. "The blade went deep. He's going to die."

"What a charming boy," Roderick managed to say sarcastically.

Cullen appeared in that moment, the relief to see Amariel alive in the Chantry evident in his eyes, though is voice was grim and serious. "Herald! Our position is not good. That dragon stole back any time you might have earned us."

"I've seen an archdemon," Cole said suddenly. "I was in the Fade, but it looked like that."

"I don't care what it looks like," Cullen said harshly. "It's cut a path for that army! They'll kill everyone in Haven!"

"The Elder One doesn't care about the village," Cole said as if it was simple math. "He only wants the _Herald_."

"If it will save these people, he can have me," Amariel said seriously.

She would not let everyone here perish for her.

"It won't," Cole said, dashing her hopes. "He wants to kill you. No one else matters, but he'll crush them, kill them anyway. I don't like him…"

"You don't _like_ —" Cullen started to say in exasperation before he sighed, turning to Amariel. "Herald…There are no tactics to make this survivable. The only thing that slowed them was the avalanche. We could turn the remaining trebuchets, cause one last slide!" Cullen said firmly. Amariel hesitated.

"We're overrun. To hit the enemy we'd bury Haven."

"We're dying…but we can decide how," Cullen managed to say. He softened his tone, meeting her gaze, completely unaware that she was getting mortifying flashbacks of him dying at Redcliffe. "Many don't get that choice."

"Excuse me, I didn't join just to have you drop rocks on my head!" Dorian stated in agitation behind Amariel.

"Dorian," Amariel told him sharply, putting up a hand to stop Cullen's rebuttal.

"Yes, that…" Cole suddenly said from beside Roderick, and all eyes turned to him as Cole spoke much louder. "Chancellor Roderick can help. He wants to say it before he dies."

"There is a path…you wouldn't know it, but if you made the summer pilgrimage as I have…" Amariel was listening much more attentively now, stepping forward and helping Roderick stand. "She must have shown me…Andraste must have shown me so I can t-tell you!"

"What about it, Cullen…will it work?" Amariel asked, trying to keep her emotions in check as she turned to him.

"Possibly…if he shows us the path…but what of your escape?" Cullen asked, his concern clear.

Amariel looked away, unable to look him in the eyes. His silence was telling, and when he spoke, his voice had clear, fearful hope in its undertones.

"Perhaps you will surprise it—find a way."

Still, Amariel didn't look at or reply to him, and Cullen turned to address everyone else in the Chantry. "Inquisition—follow Chancellor Roderick through the Chantry. Move!"

As everyone began to move around and Cole lifted Roderick onto his arm once more, Roderick angled himself towards Amariel, meeting her gaze.

"Herald, if you are meant for this, if the Inquisition is meant for this…I pray for you," he rasped. Amariel inclined her head, watching as he left. Once people were moving, four soldiers rushed past her to the door and Cullen approached again.

"They'll load the trebuchets. Keep The Elder One's attention until we're above the tree line. If we are to have a chance—if _you_ are to have a chance—let that thing hear you," Cullen said fiercely. He started to turn away to move with the group, and Amariel suddenly felt a strong pull towards him.

"Cullen!"

Cullen paused, casting his gaze to her once more. Amariel could feel the weight of unsaid things between them—at least for her, she didn't know about him—but found she could only manage two words.

"Thank you."

Dorian touched her arm, turning her attention away from Cullen. She turned towards the doors, and in so doing missed the nod of reassurance Dorian gave Cullen affirming that he would watch out for her before Dorian joined her as well, and the four—Dorian, Amariel, Cassandra, and Blackwall—all went out the doors with the soldiers.

Haven was on fire. There was not a single spot of the town that wasn't ablaze, and it made Amariel's heart ache. Still, she shoved those sentiments aside, instead plunging right into battle as she lunged at approaching Templars, letting her blades speak for the emotions powering up inside of her, begging for release. They met several groups of enemies as they tore through Haven, making their way to the closest trebuchet. Once there, they would fight to their last breath to keep it until they could create that avalanche.

It was difficult to get the trebuchet up and running. The soldiers who had filled it were slain, and an endless wave of Templars seemed to be coming endlessly upon them. However, her friends were able to help her hold those creatures off, and she helped when she could.

Before she could come up with a plan on how to fire and get out of there, she saw the dragon arching high above the mountain, headed their way. She backed away from the trebuchet slowly, looking at her companions.

"Move…now!" she ordered them, pointing back in the direction of the path. They began to run—they all did—until an explosion came right under Amariel's feet, and she was sent flying. She hit the ground hard, disoriented and trying to regain her bearings. Slowly she pushed herself up, turning to see The Elder One approaching her. Now that she was on her feet, she slowly backed away, wanting to put as much distance as possible between her and this not-well-known enemy.

Before she could back up too far, the ground below her shook, and the dragon cut off her escape and shepherding her back towards The Elder One.

She'd rather deal with The Elder One than the dragon.

The dragon came right up to her face, snarling at her before it raised its head in the air and let out a victorious roar.

"Amariel!" she distantly heard Dorian yell, though when she spotted him and the rest of the group much farther away and closer to the path, she locked gazes with him and shook her head in a clear message to go. Dorian looked ready to argue, but Amariel could tell he knew there wasn't anything they could do.

Hoping they made their way back to the others, Amariel turned to The Elder One, who was quickly approaching her.

"Enough!" the creature said flatly, causing a small shockwave to ripple over her with some magic on his part. "Pretender, you toy with forces beyond your kin no more…" he snarled.

"Whatever you are, I'm not afraid!" Amariel shouted at him defiantly.

"Words mortals often hurl at the darkness," the creature's voice seemed to hiss. "Once they were mine. They are always lies."

It pointed a knurled finger at her, eyes ablaze and reflecting the fire around them. "Know me, know what you have pretend to be. Exalt The Elder One, the will that is Corypheus. You will kneel."

"You'll—you'll get nothing out of me!" Amariel shouted at him.

"You will resist…you will always resist…it matters not," Corypheus said flippantly, pulling out some strange orb. "I am here for the Anchor. The process for removing it begins now."

Amariel was confused. The Anchor? What was he…

In the next moment Amariel knew, as her hand erupted in agony, her hand sparking madly with green energy as Corypheus' hand and the orb glowed red.

"It is your fault Herald. You interrupted a ritual years in the planning, and instead of dying, you stole its purpose." Corypheus' hand pulsed, and as a result Amariel's glowed brighter, becoming more painful and causing her to grasp painfully at her wrist. "I don't know how you survived, but what marks you as touched, what you flail at rifts, I crafted to assault the very heavens."

Corypheus clenched his fist and a particularly powerful pulse came, sending Amariel to her knees as her hand glowed both green and red, sparking madly.

"And you used the Anchor to undo my work. The gall," Corypheus sneered.

"What is this thing meant to do?" Amariel snapped through her pain. Corypheus cocked his head to the side.

"It is meant to bring certainty where there is none, for you the certainty that I would always come for it," Corypheus sneered, stepping forward and picking her up off the ground by the wrist. She dangled a good two or three feet above the ground, forced to gaze into his soulless eyes while her hand stopped sparking so madly, and with no more red. "I once breached the Fade in the name of another, to serve the Old Gods of the Empire in person. I found only chaos and corruption, dead whispers. For a thousand years, I was confused. No more. I have gathered the will to return under no name but my own, to champion with a Tevinter, correct this blighted world. Beg that I succeed. For I have seen the throne of the gods, and it was empty."

With that, he threw Amariel like a pebble, and she hit the trebuchet hard, eliciting a cry of pain from her lips as she crumpled against it.

"The Anchor is permanent; you have spoiled it with your stumbling!" Corypheus fumed. Amariel quickly reached forward, snatching up a nearby fallen sword—her daggers were still on her back, having been sheathed as she'd been preparing the trebuchet. Quickly, she pressed against the trebuchet, eyeing Corypheus and his dragon, which hunkered hungrily behind him. "So be it. I will begin again, find another way to give this world the nation and god it requires."

Amariel looked beyond him, up by the trees, and as she looked, a light soared through the air. She felt relief at the same time she felt as if that light had stabbed her in the heart.

"And you—I will not suffer even an unknowing rival. You must die," Corypheus was snarling. Amariel hardly paid him any attention, looking at the trigger beside her. She gripped the sword tighter, feeling one last flare of defiance.

"You expect us to surrender and kneel. We will not. You will face us all—when we choose!" With that, she reached over and kicked the trigger, causing the chain to start flying as the trebuchet unwound, releasing the rock that would cause an avalanche big enough to bury Haven. She leapt off the trebuchet, already moving.

"I'm sorry Cullen," she whispered as she raced away as fast as she could, trying to get somewhere safe but feeling she couldn't. The wind picked up, she heard the dragon roar and saw it take off with Corypheus, saw the snow rushing towards her…

There was a boom behind her and she was flung into the air, falling to the ground…falling _through_ the ground…and then there was darkness.

* * *

Cullen was numb as he stood within the camp the remains of the Inquisition had made, and not because of the cold.

Amariel…that was why.

When Dorian, Cassandra, and Blackwall had appeared without Amariel, when he'd heard the roars of the dragon down in Haven, he'd felt his heart stop in that moment. He'd grabbed Dorian and asked what happened, and the Tevinter had mournfully told him that they'd been cut off from Amariel when the dragon had arrived.

 _She's…holding him off so we all have a chance to escape. There was nothing we could do—not that she'd have let us even if there had been something._

His words had shaken Cullen to his core. Amariel, gone? He was about to watch her perish with his own eyes from the safety she should have reached as well?

Still, his deep sense of duty made sure that everyone reached the tree line. There would be no point if he rushed down to Haven to help—what would he do? He probably wouldn't even get there in time. And if she managed to set off the trebuchets while he was racing down, then they would both be lost.

So, when they hit the tree line, Cullen ordered the launch of the lit arrow, the beacon that would let Amariel know they were safe, that the trebuchet could be launched. As it flew through the air, Cullen felt like it had flown backwards and pierced him, carrying the weight of so many unspoken things.

Moments later, he'd been forced to watch as an avalanche covered the town of Haven, and the cursed dragon and Corypheus escaped while Haven—and Amariel—was buried under snow.

He'd hoped…

Cullen closed his eyes, trying to retain some form of sense despite his pain. The Inquisition needed its remaining leaders right now. A watch had been posted to be sure the Inquisition wasn't being pursued, and there was so many injured to attend to. He needed to be Commander Cullen right now, he couldn't let his raw, bleeding emotional wound show, he couldn't let them see just how deeply he was feeling the loss of their Herald.

His friend…and someone he'd begun to feel more for.

And to think one of the last things he'd done before the chaos at Haven was yell at her for taking on the mages. Though he tried to amend the mistake through actions, he should have apologized to her.

Now he never could.

A long time passed where Cullen was left alone to his thoughts and the war within, and he was grateful for the distraction when a scout appeared, an air of urgency about him. Cullen just hoped it wasn't bad news. He didn't know if he could take any more bad news.

"Commander, the watch is reporting a lone figure slowly making its way along the path."

Cullen's eyes riveted on the scout. "A survivor?" he asked. Did he dare hope?

"Possibly. And sir…they report seeing a green light with this figure as well," the scout said in a breathy tone that convinced Cullen the scout had the same theory. Cullen's heart leapt in his throat. "Go find Seeker Cassandra, tell her what's happening," Cullen ordered, now rushing against the wind and the snow—the cursed blizzard—to get to the mouth of the valley they were camped in. He could hear Cassandra trying to catch up to him, but she had nothing on him as he plowed forward, refusing to be daunted by the elements.

As he crested the hill, coming to the point where the towering rock walls that shielded them from the blizzard down in the camp had an opening, Cullen's eyes fell upon the reported figure, not that far away and with a green light sparking and glowing faintly. The figure was staggering, weaving, shivering…

But alive, and moving.

"There, it's her!" Cullen shouted.

"Thank the Maker," Cassandra breathed.

Amariel collapsed to the ground as they approached, falling first to her knees before she weaved and fell to her side. Cullen was there before her head could connect with the snow, and effortlessly he pulled her tiny, frozen body into his arms. He cradled her close to his chest in an effort to keep her warm, and without any consideration he pulled off his fur mantle, draping it over her to give her added warmth.

A shout immediately went up through the camp as word spread that the Herald was alive, and when Cullen and Cassandra arrived it was to a crowd of people clamoring to see Amariel. Cullen could tell she was in bad shape besides practically being frozen—she had gashes and cuts all over her, as well as bruises and a few burns. It hurt to see her so injured, but he was immensely grateful to see her alive.

Without wasting any time a cot was set up for her near the fire, and Cullen tenderly laid her down, taking a blanket—ironically—from Dorian, who had appeared at his side at some point. Cullen took back his mantle in favor of wrapping her up in a blanket, and in the next moment Mother Giselle was there, sitting down beside her.

"Let her rest, now, Commander—I can watch over her," Giselle assured him. Cullen hesitated, not wanting to leave her side…but he knew that as Commander, with Amariel being alive, they now had much to do.

And they still needed to figure out how they were going to get out of snow-covered mountains with hardly anything around to eat.

Cullen looked to Amariel one last time, wanting to linger but knowing duty called him elsewhere, before he reluctantly left her in the care of Mother Giselle, silently wishing her a speedy recovery.

And praying to Andraste that he would never lose her like that again.

* * *

"What would you have me tell them? This isn't what we asked them to do!"

"We cannot simply ignore this! We must find a way!"

"And who put you in charge? We need a consensus, or we have nothing!"

The shouting of Amariel's advisors—especially Cullen, he could get loud when he shouted—woke her. Unfortunately, it wasn't the first time, and she worried it wouldn't be the last. As she stirred, the shouting continued.

"Please, we must use reason! Without the infrastructure of the Inquisition, we're hobbled!" Josephine pled.

"That can't come from nowhere!" Cullen shouted nearly as soon as she'd finished.

"She didn't say it could," Leliana snapped.

"Enough! This is getting us nowhere!" Cassandra thundered.

"Well we're agreed on that much!" Cullen snapped.

The shouting stopped after that—they probably went their separate ways so cooler heads could prevail. Amariel stared into the fire, disillusioned. For the first time, Mother Giselle spoke up.

"Shh, you need rest," she chided gently as Amariel sat up on her cot.

"They've been at it for hours," Amariel said tiredly. She was still recovering, and she hurt everywhere…but how could she sleep with all the fighting and worry?

"They have that luxury, thanks to you. The enemy could not follow, and with time to doubt, we turn to blame. Infighting may threaten as much as this Corypheus."

"The only thing yelling gets us is a headache. Another headache," Amariel said bitterly.

"They know. But our situation—your situation—is complicated. Our leaders struggle because what we survivors witnessed. We saw our defender stand…and fall. And now we have seen her _return_. The more the enemy is beyond us, the more miraculous your actions appear, and the more our trials seem ordained." Amariel sat up on the cot, uninspired by Giselle's words and only feeling more of a burden after everything that had happened. "This is hard to accept, no? What _we_ have been called to endure? What _we_ , perhaps, must come to believe?"

Amariel sighed, feeling as if the weight of everything was upon her shoulders—in a way, it was. "Mother Giselle, I just don't see how what I believe matters. Lies or not, Corypheus is a real, physical threat. We can't match that with hope alone…"

With that, Amariel stood, making her way slowly out of the tent and placing her hands on her hips, looking despondently at her councilors scattered about—Cassandra pouring over a map, Cullen staring at the ground looking lost, Josephine and Leliana sitting by a fire and simply staring into its flames…

"Shadows fall…and hope has fled…"

Amariel turned, startled as she heard Mother Giselle start to sing in a clear voice that echoed around their rock-encircled valley. What was she doing?

"Steel your heart, the dawn will come. The night is long, and the path is dark. Look to the sky, for one day soon, the dawn will come."

"The shepherd's lost, and his home is far…"

Amariel was shocked to hear Leliana now, and she turned, seeing that a small crowd was starting to gather, slowly joining in one by one as a chorus of voices began to swell.

"Keep to the stars, the dawn will come. The night is long…"

"And the path is dark!" Cullen joined in, and Amariel's ears easily picked up his oh-so recognizable voice. She hadn't known he could sing. Then again, he'd been a Templar, constantly around the Chantry, and he was an obviously deeply religious man…

"Look to the sky, for one day soon, the dawn will come."

Now, one by one, people began to kneel before her—something Amariel wasn't sure how she felt about. She wasn't one to be worshipped…though she could not deny, as this spectacle unfolded, that she was their hope. And the more she heard of this song, the more unity she saw among these people…the more life that returned to Cullen's eyes, to everyone's eyes in the camp…the more renewed she felt.

"Bare your blade, and raise it high! Stand your ground, the dawn will come. The night is long, and the path is dark. Look to the sky, for one day soon, the dawn will come."

"An army needs more than an enemy…it needs a cause," Mother Giselle said simply before she walked away. All around her, the camp was suddenly alive, and a cacophony of voices began to rise—but unlike in those final moments in the Chantry, these were voices of hope.

"A word?"

Amariel jumped slightly, turning just in time to see Solas already walking in the other direction. She frowned, but followed willingly after him, watching as he lit one of the torches on the outskirts of the camp on fire with veilfire. As she approached, he spoke.

"The humans have not raised one of our people so high for ages beyond counting. Her faith is hard won, Lethallan, worthy of pride…save one detail. The threat Corypheus wields, the orb he carried? It is ours. Corypheus used the orb to open the breach. Unlocking it must have caused the explosion that destroyed the conclave. We must find out how he survived…and we must prepare for their reaction, when they learn the orb is of our people."

Amariel sighed—of course, just when she found hope, Solas threw this at her. "Didn't you see? The people trust me implicitly."

Solas was unfazed. "Faith tends to make martyrs of its champions. Whatever the case that trust cannot grow in the wilderness. You will need every advantage. By attacking the Inquisition, Corypheus has changed it. Changed _you_. Scout to the north, be their guide. There is a place that waits for a force to hold it. There is a place where the Inquisition can build…grow…we must reach this place before anything else."

"When do we start?" Amariel asked.

"As soon as you are ready."

* * *

There was a change in Amariel. After that night in the valley…something seemed to take hold of her, and it wasn't a bad thing. Cullen watched as, after that night, she took control, speaking of somewhere Solas had told her about that the Inquisition could go to and stay, a place that would hold them like Haven couldn't. She scouted ahead, sometimes with Solas, sometimes with Dorian or Blackwall, and sometimes alone. She did all she could to help the people, no matter how small the matter was. Gradually they made their way across the mountains, and every day Amariel appeared stronger, more determined, her injuries fading away until she was a glowing, strong young woman once more. While these thoughts occurred to him, Cullen began to wonder if it was time to pick a leader.

Morale never once wavered as the people followed Amariel through the snowy landscape, and soon, that paid off. Cullen would never forget the moment he came up behind Amariel as she stood dumbstruck at a mountain's peek, staring at something in the valley.

"What is it?" he'd asked as he came even with her, though in the next moment he glanced down and saw the enormous fortress just sitting there, empty and untouched accept by some of the elements.

"Cullen…" Amariel said, sounding like she was still in a daze. "This…is Skyhold."

Cullen looked to her, saw the amazement and determination and raw life shining in her eyes, the confident and fierce way she held herself, and all he could do was smile. "It's perfect," he said, though what he was thinking about…was her. This wonderful woman before him, a woman he swore to protect from having to suffer events like Haven ever again.

No harm would befall her if Cullen ever had a say about it.


	5. Chapter 5: Skyhold

_**Yaaaaay they've reached Skyhold, lol.**_

 _ **Please keep with the reviews, they make me happy haha :)**_

 _ **Enjoy!**_

* * *

People flocked to Skyhold once the Inquisition set up camp, and though there was still much to do in the way of renovations, but they were already settling down, even making Skyhold a home.

It was heartwarming.

Hardly any time had passed, and yet Amariel had noticed that her councilers spent much time talking about…something when she wasn't around. It made her wary, but not enough to make her paranoid or suspicious.

Though she did wonder what they were talking about…

Even now, as she exited her temporary room and looked near the door, she could see Cullen, Josephine, Leliana, and Cassandra speaking about something in low tones. Curious, and hoping she could maybe catch something this time, Amariel started forward in the hopes to hear something.

To her surprise, Cassandra spotted her, and instead of everyone halting the conversation of whispers, Cassandra gestured her forward, and the other three turned to look at her, giving their own varying degrees of a smile before they went their separate way. Amariel decided not to comment as she approached Cassandra, deciding to deal with it at a later date.

Cassandra gestured to some of the newer members of Skyhold as she began to speak. "They arrive daily from every settlement in the region. Skyhold is becoming a pilgrimage." Cassandra began to walk, and Amariel fell into step beside her, even as they began to make their way up a flight of stairs that started on a path that eventually led to the Skyhold castle. "If word has reached these people, it will have reached The Elder One. We have the walls and numbers to put up a fight here, but the threat is far beyond the war we anticipated. But we now know what allowed you to stand against Corypheus, what drew him to you," Cassandra stated, coming to a stop at the first landing.

"He came for this, and now it's useless to him, so he wants me dead. That's it," Amariel said tiredly.

"The anchor has power, but it's not why you're still standing here," Cassandra said simply, continuing along the path and drawing closer to the castle's stairs. "Your decisions let us heal the sky, your determination brought us out of Haven."

As they approached the stairs, Cassandra led the way up to the first landing. "You are that creature's rival because of what _you_ did. And we know it, all of us."

Amariel almost stumbled in shock when she saw Leliana waiting for them, a grand sword in her hands with head bowed. She looked to Cassandra, trying to figure out what was happening. "The Inquisition requires a leader: The one who has _already_ been leading it."

Looking down below her from the landing, Amariel saw a crowd starting to form. She partially felt like she'd been ambushed with this, especially seeing everyone amassing, looking up to see what she would do, what she would say, with hope on their faces. Though among them, she could see Cullen, and the reassuring, gentle smile upon his face gave her some comfort at the same time Cassandra's confirmation caused her heart to speed up.

"You," Cassandra stated.

Well, she was officially in the spotlight for all to see.

"You're offering this to an elf? Are you quite sure you know what you're doing?" Amariel asked her worriedly, stunned beyond measure.

"I would be terrified handing this power over to anyone, but I believe it is the only way," Cassandra said confidently. "They'll follow you. To them, being an elf shows how far you've risen, how it must have been by Andraste's hand. What it means to you, how you lead us: that is for you alone to determine."

Amariel slowly stepped forward, taking the sword in hand and raising it experimentally with both hands. She was stunned, and a hush had fallen over the crowd. Everyone held their breath waiting to hear what she would say as she cast her gaze to the crowd. Seeing their hopeful faces, seeing Cullen practically glowing with pride down below…it spurred her to speak.

"I will lead us against Corypheus, and I will be an ambassador. I'm an elf standing for Thedas—the Inquisition is for all."

"Wherever you lead us," Cassandra said with a nod before she came to stand just behind Amariel, looking down into the crowd.

"Have our people been told?" Cassandra shouted down to Josephine.

"They have. And soon, the world!" Josephine called back.

"Commander, will they follow?" Cassandra called to Cullen. Amariel thought he would burst with the smile and the light in his eyes that graced his features, the radiant and raw _pride_ that emanated from him.

Cullen immediately turned, his voice carrying for all to hear. "Inquisition, will you follow?"

The cheer was astounding, and it lifted Amariel's spirits considerably.

"Will you fight?" Cullen called, and the resounding cheer was more deafening than the last.

"Will we _triumph_?" Cullen's voice could barely be heard as the roar started to grow, so he rose to a shout Amariel could still hear, and she grinned down at him, heart fluttering.

"Your leader, your Herald, your _Inquisitor_!" Cullen shouted as the crowd grew to a roar, drawing his sword and hefting it high towards Amariel. In response, Amariel hefted her own blade high for all to see. The raw pride, the invigorating determination she felt was bursting, faces beamed, and Amariel could hardly keep from laughing from the elation the crowd's exuberance gave her, even if she'd hesitated to take such a position.

It was the start of a new day.

* * *

As soon as they had a chance, Amariel, Cullen, Josephine, and Leliana all entered the Skyhold Castle for the first time, flinging the doors open and making their way inside. There was much ruin to clean up, but it was a grand fortress—far more than Amariel could have asked for.

"So this is where it begins?" Cullen asked as he looked around.

"It began in the courtyard. This is where we turn that promise into action," Leliana said quietly.

"But what do we do? We know nothing about this Corypheus except that he wanted your mark," Josephine admitted. Amariel gazed down at the mark for a few moments, watching the green light faintly glow before she turned to the others.

"Someone out there must know something about Corypheus," Amariel said in determination.

"Unless they saw him out on the field, most will not believe he exists," Cullen told her.

"We do have one advantage: we know what Corypheus intends to do _next_ ," Leliana pointed out. "In that strange future you experienced, Empress Celine had been assassinated.

"Imagine the chaos her death would cause? With his army…" Josephine started to say before trailing off. Cullen picked up her train of thought.

"An army he'll bolster with a massive force of demons…or so the future tells us," Cullen said in a low tone of voice.

"Corypheus could conquer the entire south of Thedas, god or no god," Josephine said grimly.

Leliana sighed. "I'd feel better if we knew more about what we were dealing with."

"I know someone who can help with that," came a new, familiar voice.

Varric.

"Everyone acting all inspirational jogged my memory, so I-I sent a message to an old friend," the dwarf said as he approached the four, who were turning to face him. "She's crossed paths with Corypheus before, and may know more about what he's doing. She can help."

"I'm always looking for new allies—Introduce me," Amariel told him with a smile.

Varric looked over his shoulder, then back at Amariel. "Parading around might cause a fuss…It's better for you to meet privately. On the battlements." Amariel's advisors behind her exchanged a few glances, and Varric backtracked slightly. "Trust me, it's complicated."

As he turned and left, Josephine spoke up, though Amariel was still looking in Varric's direction. "Well then, we stand ready to move on both of these concerns."

"On your order…Inquisitor," Cullen stated, the first to use Amariel's new title.

"I know one thing: If Varric has brought who I _think_ he has, Cassandra is going to kill him," Leliana mused, earning a smile from Amariel.

"Let us begin, then. I'll go meet Varric's friend, then we can call a war council to decide our next move," Amariel stated.

"Of course, Inquisitor," Josephine said pleasantly, and they all parted ways to attend to different duties, Amariel heading right for the battlements.

* * *

Amariel had to navigate some debris to get to the far-right corner of the battlements she'd glimpsed Varric waiting on her way out of the castle, but she didn't mind. With all the secrets, Amariel felt that this would be well worth her time.

Varric gave Amariel a slightly nervous smile as she made her way to stand off to his right. "She'll be here any moment."

He'd hardly said that when a woman appeared in full rogue armor with dark red hair, startling green eyes, high cheekbones and an angular face, a scar over her left eye, a deep blue tattoo that made a broken half figure eight around her eyes, dark red and pink lips, and gold and brown eyeshadow. The woman made her way down the steps, approaching Amariel as Varric spoke.

"Inquisitor, meet Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall," Varric said rather proudly.

"Though I don't use that title much anymore," Hawke said in a voice Amariel found was startlingly gentle considering all of the stories.

"Hawke, the Inquisitor," Varric introduced as Hawke came to stand before Amariel. "I figured you might have some friendly advice about Corypheus. You and I did fight him after all."

Hawke inclined her head, making her way over to the edge of the short tower they were standing on, leaning against the stone and looking out over Skyhold. Amariel stood a few steps behind her. "Impressive view…reminds me of my home in Kirkwall. I had a balcony that overlooked the whole city. I loved it at first, but after a while all I could see was people out there depending on me."

Amariel sighed. "You're lucky it was just a single city. I've got half of Thedas."

"You're doing everything you can to protect them," Hawke assured her quietly.

"Does it ever get any easier?" Amariel asked. Hawke was silent for a few moments.

"I'll let you know. I don't envy you, Inquisitor, but I may be able to help you."

"Varric said that you'd fought Corypheus before," Amariel stated as Hawke straightened.

"Fought…and killed," Hawke said grimly while Varric took a drink from a bottle he'd brought with him. "The Grey Wardens were holding him, and he somehow used his connection to the darkspawn to influence them."

"Corypheus got into their heads, messed with their minds, turned them against each other," Varric added, setting the bottle down and rejoining them.

"If the Wardens have disappeared, they could have fallen under his control again," Hawke suggested. Amariel felt her eyebrows raise. That didn't sound good at all.

"If that's what happened to the Wardens, do you think we can free them?" she asked in concern.

"It's possible, but we need to know more first…" Hawke said, starting to pace in a short line. "I've got a friend in the Wardens. He was investigating something unrelated for me…his name is Alistair."

Amariel's heart skipped a beat. _The_ Alistair? The one who'd been constantly at the side of and romantically with the Hero of Ferelden, Aurora? The _elf_ Aurora who saved Ferelden during the Fifth Blight?

Back in reality, Hawke kept speaking.

"The last time we spoke he was worried about corruption in the Warden ranks. Since then, nothing."

"Corypheus would certainly qualify as corruption in the ranks," Varric said with a sigh. "Did your friend disappear with them?"

"No. He told me he'd be hiding in an old smuggler's cave near Crestwood," Hawke said, and Amariel felt hope rise within her.

"I'll take any lead I can get at the moment," Amariel said with a nod.

"Good I'll do whatever I can to help," Hawke told her, holding out a hand for Amariel to shake. "Corypheus is my responsibility. I thought I'd killed him before. This time, I'll make sure of it."

"Then we're glad to have you on board, Hawke," Amariel said with a smile.

Hawke nodded in the direction of the castle. "You should probably go tell your people what's going on. I'll meet you in Crestwood."

"I'll see you there," Amariel agreed, and with that she left, trying to wrap her head around the fact that not only had she just spoken with the Champion of Kirkwall, but she was possibly about to seek out _Alistair_.

* * *

On her way down, Amariel heard crashing and, curious, she went to investigate. Coming down a flight of steps, she came across Varric and Cassandra, and it appeared the crashing was Cassandra shoving Varric against the table, chairs, and finally the railing. Varric had gone a different way, but apparently, _someone_ must have seen Hawke arrive—or leave, as Hawke was now headed to Crestwood—because it was the only explanation Amariel had for Cassandra already knowing about Hawke.

At least that was what Amariel thought Cassandra might be mad about.

"You knew where Hawke was all along!" Cassandra shouted at him as Varric pushed her away, his tone just as angry.

"You're damned right I did!" he snapped.

"You conniving little—" Cassandra growled, her curse at the end punctuated by her fist swooshing through the air as Varric dodged the blow, running to the other side of the table as Amariel approached.

"You kidnapped me! You interrogated me! What did you expect?" Varric fumed.

"Hey, enough!" Amariel snapped at them in a clear voice when she finally arrived, coming to stand between them.

"You're taking _his_ side!" Cassandra demanded angrily.

"I said enough!" Amariel shouted, slicing her hand through the air to signal there would be no debate—the squabble was over.

Varric started to leave, and Cassandra stalked towards Amariel. "We needed someone to lead this Inquisition. First Leliana and I searched for the Hero of Ferelden, but she had vanished. Then, we looked for Hawke, but she was gone too. We thought it all connected, but no, it was just you, _you_ who kept her from us," Cassandra said rather hatefully towards Varric.

 _Gee, Cassandra, I was your third choice? Thanks for the vote of confidence—it's not like you just appointed me as Inquisitor_ , Amariel thought, feeling wounded but brushing the feeling off for now.

"The Inquisition has a leader!" Varric said angrily, gesturing towards Amariel.

"Hawke would have been at the Conclave! If anyone could have saved Most Holy…" Cassandra said passionately.

"You can't change the past, Cassandra," Amariel told her.

"So I must accept…what? That the Maker _wanted_ all this to happen? That he—" Cassandra cut off, her voice momentarily stolen by emotion before she steeled herself, stepping towards Varric. "Varric is a liar, Inquisitor, a snake. Even after the Conclave, when we needed Hawke most, Varric kept her secret."

"She's with us now—we're on the same side!" Varric said in frustration.

"We all know who's side you're on, _Varric_. It will _never_ be the Inquisition's."

"Attacking him now won't help us Cassandra," Amariel scolded with a frown.

"Ha! Exactly!" Varric crowed.

"And you better not be keeping anything else from us," Amariel told him pointedly.

Varric growled in frustration, but ceded. "I understand."

Cassandra turned, leaning against the railing of the small indoor balcony they were all on. "I must not think of what could have been. We have so much at stake. Go, Varric. Just…go."

Varric gladly did so, though he stopped at the foot of the stairs, looking sad but also determined. "You know what I think? If Hawke had been at the Temple, she'd be dead too. You people have done enough to her."

With that, Varric disappeared.

"I believed him. He spun his story for me, and I swallowed it!" Cassandra berated herself, slowly taking a seat. "If I just explained what was at stake, if I'd just made him understand…but I didn't, did I? I didn't explain why we needed Hawke. I'm such a fool."

Amariel sat down opposite her. "You're too hard on yourself Cassandra."

"Not hard enough, I think."

"You can't believe that!"

Cassandra heaved a sigh. "I want you to know, I have no regrets. Maybe if we'd found Hawke or the Hero of Ferelden, the Maker wouldn't have needed to send you. But he did." The two of the stood, Cassandra still speaking. "You're not what I'd pictured, but if I've learned anything, it's that I know less than nothing."

With that, Cassandra left, and Amariel shook her head. She didn't think she could handle a war council right now. She needed some air, first.

* * *

Despite the fact she was hoping for a break, she kept getting things thrown her way as she sought out some air. Iron Bull snagged her to put her undercover and meet some of her recruits when they thought she was one of them instead of Inquisitor, she had to calm down Sera, who was freaking out about how big everything had become, Blackwall wanted to know if she believed she was divinely ordained and gave her a lecture about no matter what she believed everyone looked to her that way and they needed it, Leliana was blaming herself for Haven and Amariel had to talk her out of that thinking, Varric needed some comforting and reassurance after the entire episode with Cassandra, apparently Cole was some sort of spirit/demon that Cassandra and Vivienne demanded leave but Solas asked to let him stay (After seeing Cole only wanted to help, and feeling no ill will from him and trusting Solas' expertise on the matter Amariel let him stay)…

Dorian had given her a bit of a breather with his humorous approach to the serious, even making her smile.

 _Brilliant, isn't it? One moment you're trying to restore order in a world gone mad. That should be enough for anyone to handle, yes? Then, out of nowhere, an archdemon appears and kicks you in the head! "What? You thought this would be easy?" "No, I was just hoping you wouldn't crush our little village like an anthill!" "Sorry about that, archdemons like to crush you know, can't be helped." Am I speaking too quickly for you?_

Now, she found herself by the makeshift medical station, of all places, still trying to find her reprieve and praying no one else pounced on her.

Though looking just a little farther ahead, by the stairs…

Cullen.

Simply the sight of him put Amariel at ease, and even though he was accompanied by two soldiers, Amariel approached, deciding if she wanted a breather, she should be around Cullen. He was the one she always went to after missions anyway to unwind. Their talks, no matter what the conversation, were always relaxing.

"Send men to scout the area—we need to know what's out there," Cullen was currently saying, two scouts saluting before they left.

"Commander, soldiers have been assigned temporary quarters," another soldier reported.

"Very good—I'll need an update on the armory as well." Amariel smiled as the soldier just stood there, idly scratching at his shoulder before Cullen turned to look at him. "Now!" he said sharply, and the soldier scurried off.

"We set up as best we could at Haven, but could never prepare for an archdemon—or whatever it was. With some warning, we might have…"

Amariel blinked, wondering just how much of everything that had been done around Skyhold was due to Cullen. Carefully, she laid a gentle hand on his forearm out of concern and to provide some unspoken comfort. "Do you ever sleep?" she asked.

Cullen didn't answer—he deflected it with a statement that was only loosely tied to her question. "If Corypheus strikes again, we may not be able to withdraw…and I wouldn't want to. We must be ready." Cullen leaned over the reports and schematics on his makeshift desk beside the stairs, and Amariel dropped her hand. "Work on Skyhold is underway, guard rotations established. We should have everything on course within the week. We will not run from here, Inquisitor."

Amariel smiled slightly. _Again, do you ever sleep?_ "Inquisitor Lavellan. It sounds odd, don't you think?"

"Not at all," Cullen said, looking to her. Amariel laughed lightly.

"Is that the _official_ response?"

Cullen laughed as well, and the sound warmed Amariel's heart, bringing the comfort and ease she'd been craving. "I suppose it is, but it's the truth." Cullen straightened, turning to face her entirely. "We needed a leader. You _have_ proven yourself."

"Thank you, Cullen," Amariel said sincerely. Cullen gave her that warm half-smile she was becoming familiar with, one that contained…more, and she hoped she wasn't imagining it. What she would have done if she'd never been able to see that smile again…

"Our escape from Haven…it was close," Amariel found herself saying softly. "I'm relieved that you…that so many made it out."

"As am I," Cullen told her, his voice holding notes of tenderness she'd not heard from him yet. He held her gaze for a few moments, then cast it away, some unreadable expression on his face Amariel had not seen yet. The silence dragged on, and Amariel wondered if either of them would speak. Amariel turned away slightly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The movement seemed to snap Cullen from his daze, and he stepped forward.

"You stayed behind," he said softly, reaching out and grasping her wrist so he could turn her to face him entirely. They were closer in proximity than they'd been before, and Amariel felt her breath catch in her throat. "You could have—"

Cullen cut himself off, holding her brilliant, clear blue gaze with his own amber eyes. "I will not allow the events at Haven to happen again. You have my word."

His words were so fiercely protective, his gaze intent, and they were so close…She could see Cole eyeing them from his spot a few paces away, but she hardly registered that. All she registered was Cullen. So many unspoken words, her fear of losing him since Redcliffe, the peace his mere presence brought her…Everything at the cusp of her lips…but she couldn't speak them. She had to settle for words with more than one meaning, stolen looks and contact, the small things…it would never be more. Especially now that she was the Inquisitor, and Cullen her Commander. In war…the worry for each other would likely drive them mad.

"Then I know I'm safe under your care, Commander," Amariel replied gently. She cleared her throat, straightening. "Surely you can tear yourself away from your duties long enough for a war meeting, can't you?"

At her lead, Cullen switched back to his more professional attitude as well. "Of course, Inquisitor. I've simply been awaiting your signal."

Amariel gave him a small, half smile. "Then would you be so kind as to escort me?" she asked, some amusement shimmering in her eyes. Cullen chuckled.

"Of course, My Lady."

Together, they made their way to the new war room, remaining in comfortable, companionable silence as they entered Josephine's office right before the war room. Josephine looked worried, brow furrowed in concentration, so as soon as she entered Amariel switched course to approach her ambassador.

"I've made some inquiries into the imperial court the sooner we deal with the threats to the Empress, the better. The political situation in the empire is dangerously unstable. It will complicate matters," Josephine stated as they approached.

"Everything in the empire complicates matters. It's the Orliesian national pastime," Cullen scoffed.

Leliana approached them from the door they'd just entered, most likely having seen them enter the castle and assuming they were getting ready for a war council. "Turn your nose up at the grand game if you like, Commander, but we play for the highest stakes, and to the death."

"The court's disapproval can be as great a threat as the Venatori. We must be vigilant, to avert disaster," Josephine added.

"Don't worry, Josephine, we'll protect the Empress, no matter what," Amariel reassured her.

"I pray you're right. If your vision of the future comes to pass…" Amariel flinched, something perhaps only Cullen and Leliana noticed. "The death of the Empress heralds the destruction of everything. Orlais holds Tevinter at bay. All of Thedas could be lost if the empire falls to Corypheus. Celine is holding peace talks under the auspices of a Grand Masquerade. Every power in Orlais will be there. It's the perfect place for an assassin to hide."

"A Grand Masquerade?" Amariel asked, a smile flickering across her face. "I need to go shopping."

"We don't have enough sway with the court to arrange an invitation," Josephine said critically. "Perhaps a few more alliances…"

"Or soldiers," Cullen said shortly.

"We need a greater presence in Orlais. And soon," Josephine said simply.

"Well then…I guess we should start working on that," Amariel mused. With the way Cullen was watching her from the corner of his eyes, she wondered if he knew her humor was an attempt to play off her flinch and the return of bad memories from a few moments ago. "War council, anyone?"

Cullen gave her a small smile. "We might as well, since we're all here now."

Amariel absentmindedly popped her neck, thinking of how long she was probably going to be out in the field. "Yes, we should work on making some progress—we've got lots of work to do, and I need to go out into the field for more resources anyway. With all these new threats, I'd like to get my hands on some good armor for myself and our friends that accompany me."

The four of them made their way into the room adjacent to Josephine's office, where the war table was already set up and covered in a plethora of markers. Amariel's eyes widened slightly as they all circled the table.

She couldn't help herself. It just slipped out.

"Mythal'enaste! Kaffas!" she swore. "You must have had a field day with the table while I was with Varric!"

Cullen was looking at her in bewilderment, as was Leliana. "Was that an elven _and_ Tevene curse?"

Amariel blushed slightly. "Ah…yes. Perhaps a little too much time spent with Dorian. But anyway…I'm assuming you have reports for me?" Amariel asked, wanting to crawl under the table but forcing herself to approach and helplessly look at all the new markers, trying to decide where to even begin.

"Yes…" Josephine said slowly before moving forward, to Amariel's relief. "Prince Sebastian sent us a generous donation to the Inquisition for helping him, and stated that he's looking forward to working with us more in the future."

"I'm glad to hear that," Amariel stated.

"Caralina has become the Duchess of Lydes, meanwhile, and thanks us for the protection from the agents that tried to attack her carriage. She actually sent you a blade that's been passed through their family for generations as thanks," Cullen informed her. "Harritt is keeping it safe for you."

"Thank you, Cullen," Amariel stated, eyes now glued to the board. Where to even begin?

Leliana, thankfully, chipped in to get her started. "There is an Arcanist we have heard of that could open the doors to rune crafting and masterwork armor and weapons. All we need do is secure her safe passage to us."

"A full retinue will secure her safety along the Imperial Highway," Cullen said as soon as Leliana finished speaking.

Amariel perked up at that. She had just been saying she wanted to upgrade her group's weapons and armor. "By all means, Commander."

"Also, Inquisitor, I would like to bolster our forces and conscript more soldiers. With what's come to light regarding Corypheus—he being a darkspawn magister possibly commanding an archdemon—we may have a blight on our hands. Blackwall's treaties and our cause will make it easier to do so," Cullen added.

"I agree. Corypheus has a massive army at his disposal—we need to start gathering an army of our own," Amariel said with a nod.

"On my way down here, Dorian gave me this for you and said it was important," Leliana stated, pulling out a small scroll and handing it to Amariel. For a moment, she wondered why he hadn't told her when she saw him earlier, but shrugged it off, starting to read what it said. She chuckled within the first few lines, and by the time she finished she had a small smile on her face, giving it back to Leliana.

"I believe this one is better suited for you, Leliana. Dorian wants to go Venatori hunting. I'm sure your people can get this done quickly and quietly without alerting the Venatori."

"At once, Inquisitor."

"Also, the Blades of Hessarian have offered us the supplies kept along the shores of the Storm Coast. We cannot openly accept stolen goods…but we can take found goods," Josephine said slyly. Amariel chuckled softly under her breath.

"Then surely, Josephine, we should start looking?" Amariel said with a smile.

"Indeed."

"Worth noting, Inquisitor, is that you have received an invitation to the Black Emporium. I suggest going—There are many treasures there, and there may even be something that could help us in the fight against Corypheus," Leliana informed her.

"You'll need safe passage across the Walking Sea to Kirkwall. That is easily arranged," Cullen chipped in.

"I'll investigate, then," Amariel said with a nod. "Speaking of investigations, since we need to expand our reach in Orlais, perhaps we should start scouting some of the areas."

"What do you have in mind?" Leliana asked.

"Well, there are many travelers entering the western approach, and no one leaving—troublesome, considering it's a blighted dessert. I suggest immediate deployment of troops to secure a position there," Cullen offered.

"You do that, Commander. Once they've secured their position I'll go there myself." Amariel paused, frowning at the war table and putting her finger on a marker that offered a place that needed scouting. "Whatever is going on in the Exalted Planes of the Dales, I want to know."

"We'll establish an outpost so you can investigate, then," Leliana said before Cullen could even open his mouth. Amariel fought a smile, but nodded.

"Thank you."

"One more thing…and probably what I'll address first," Amariel murmured. "I spoke to Varric's friend—some have already found out, but if anyone's not aware of who it was, he did, in fact, bring the Champion of Kirkwall."

To Amariel's surprise, Cullen stiffened slightly, but it was a motion Amariel suspected only she caught. She didn't comment, though made a note to herself to ask him about it later.

"She mentioned that because of Corypheus' connection to the darkspawn, he holds influence over the Grey Wardens somehow, and can mess with their minds. She thinks their recent disappearance may have be Corypheus influencing them somehow once more. Apparently, she already had a friend looking into corruption within the ranks of the Grey Wardens—possibly Corypheus, now that all of this is coming to light—but she hasn't heard anything from him since. However, he didn't disappear like the rest of the Wardens. We need more information, and he may have it. So…we need to scout Crestwood for the smuggler's cave he should be hiding in, and see if we can find Alistair."

"Alistair!" Leliana stated in shock, and now Cullen was noticeably tense. "You mean—"

"I think so," Amariel said. "I'm not sure, but I believe she did mean _the_ Alistair. I want to know what's going on as soon as possible. Leliana, have people look for him, and as soon as you find something, send word to me."

"At once, Inquisitor."

Amariel nodded. "While all of that is going on, I need to head out to get some supplies so I can improve our armor and weapons, though I'll be sure to do other productive things as well. Perhaps I'll close a few rifts," Amariel said with a smile.

"Just be careful out there, Inquisitor. The more well-known we become, the more enemies we make," Cullen warned her.

"I will be, Commander, don't worry. Besides, Dorian has my back."

"I suppose you're right," Cullen mused, earning a smile from Amariel.

"All right then—I'll be on my way. Contact me on any progress you make," Amariel said, and with that, they dispersed. However, Amariel trailed after Cullen, hoping she could get some answers about what she saw.

"Cullen," she said gently as they made their way down the steps of Skyhold. "I noticed in the war room that you were…uneasy when I mentioned Hawke and Alistair…" she started to say, unsure of how to continue. Cullen was quick to answer, however, and effectively halted the conversation.

Amariel didn't want to push him, not now when she was starting to see something grow between them.

"It's nothing of concern. I met them both briefly when I was…a different person. I just hadn't thought I'd cross paths with either of them again, let alone both at the same time. Nothing more," Cullen said hastily, and Amariel nodded, backing off from the subject.

"Fair enough. Though speaking of Hawke and Kirkwall…" Cullen tensed slightly at how she opened her next question, though it was the only way Amariel could think of making it a casual question at the moment. "Did you leave anyone behind in Kirkwall?"

Cullen blinked, slightly caught off guard before he relaxed. "No. I fear I made few friends in Kirkwall, and my family's in Ferelden," he told her.

"No one…special caught your interest?" Amariel asked as casually as she could.

"Not in Kirkwall…" Cullen responded, his eyes sliding towards her as they continued in silence back towards his makeshift desk, and she couldn't help but wonder if she was meant to see a hidden meaning in his words.

Though she'd rather not assume and be wrong.

"Well, I should probably start finding everyone so I can head out. I'll keep in touch with what's going on so none of you worry," Amariel said eventually.

"It would be much appreciated, Inquisitor. I'll let you get back to your duties, then," Cullen said, leaning against the desk.

"Until our return, Commander," Amariel told him, flashing a smile before she made her way to Cole, who was standing a few paces away by the wounded. "Come on, Cole, I want you to try something on…"

* * *

 _Cullen_

 _I'm glad that I decided to bring Cole along this time—hearing the conversations between him, Blackwall, and Dorian are refreshing and quite humorous. I think I like having him around._

 _We've mostly done a bunch of odd jobs, some hunting and exploring. We've traveled to the Mire, the Hinterlands, and the Storm Coast searching supplies. We also stopped at the Black Emporium, and I must say, I'm saving my coin for some of the treats that are held there._

 _Though there was also plenty of materials there, so I now know where to go when I want a rarer materiel._

 _I apologize that this is the only letter you've received—there hasn't been much happening as we're traveling through areas we've already secured. I've closed two or three rifts and saw the Storm Coast dragon again, but nothing beyond that._

 _We're on our way back to Skyhold so I can use the materials we have for our upgrades. I'm sure you'll have plenty for me to do when we arrive._

 _Amariel Lavellan_

* * *

Wanting to keep to the tradition that had started in Haven, Cullen went to meet Amariel as she rode in, standing by the gate and watching as the four horses grew closer and closer. A plethora of hides and metals were evenly dispersed among the four, and the sack Amariel usually kept the herbs they found was bulging from its contents.

As Amariel reached him, Cullen took the reins of the horse to hold him in place and helped Amariel down with his other hand. "I see it was a successful trip," Cullen remarked.

"It was—and quiet, too. It was a refreshment I needed," Amariel said with a sigh.

"Have the supplies sent to the blacksmith," Cullen told a nearby soldier as he handed her horses' reins to him.

"Yes sir!" the young man said instantly, already moving.

"Breath painful, stabbing, and then real stabbing, lungs full, frothing, scent of apples as it all goes black…" Cole suddenly said over by Dorian and Blackwall. They received several stares.

"'Death by Apple Pie,' a lovely poem by our dear friend Cole," Dorian stated in a sarcastically cheery voice. Amariel snickered.

"Was the entire trip like that?" Cullen asked as they moved in the opposite direction. Amariel was already looking about at the newly opened space, as much of the rubble had been cleared away while she was absent. New areas of Skyhold were now available to them, and Cullen could tell she was itching to explore some more.

"Yes, it was, actually. You should have heard his cheerful poem about the ocean at the Storm Coast," Amariel said in amusement. Cullen chuckled.

"I'm sure it was interesting…Anyway, I'm sure you'd like to explore more of Skyhold. I should leave you to your adventures," Cullen said graciously, ready to turn away and let her roam free as she seemed to want to do. To his surprise, she stopped him.

"Would you mind showing me, Commander? What you've uncovered since I left?" Amariel asked. Cullen was only put off for a moment, but then decided to seize the moment to spend time with her while she was here.

"Of course, My Lady," he said graciously, subconsciously falling into a more relaxed state with his hand on the hilt of his sword. With a simple gesture, Cullen led them to the right, between some of the rubble that still wasn't completely cleared but had a path for people to get to what lie on the other side. "Our merchants and traders are setting up over here, and we now have stables for Master Dennet's horses," Cullen said, gesturing to the large barn and the four pens that held the horses Amariel and her companions usually used.

"I'm glad to see they've found a home. Our horses have never had finer," Amariel said with a smile while Cullen led them to the stairway that would take them through the kitchens, then into the treasury that included the wine cellar and an old library. Amariel took in a sharp breath as she trailed in behind Cullen.

"There's no end to it—I could store an army!" she breathed, observing the large space around her. Cullen chuckled.

"I suppose you could. The wine cellar is behind that door, and there's an old library over there that no one's touched yet—they'll clean it up soon, though," Cullen reassured her, ducking into another stairwell and leading the way up the flight of steps. "This comes out right before Josephine's office—just take a right and you're in the main hall," Cullen told her, opening the door to the main hall. There were more people there now that more room had been cleared, mostly nobles, though Cullen resolutely ignored them as he made his way towards the throne and dais. Amariel looked curiously at the door to the left as they approached.

"I remember that door was blocked the last time I was here. Has it been cleared?"

"Yes, it has. And we've designated it as the space for your quarters. There's still repairs being made on the way up, but I assure you it's safe."

"I don't doubt it is," Amariel assured him as he led her up a few flights of stairs. They crested the top of the first flight, and Cullen heard her suck in a sharp breath. He stepped aside, watching as she slowly walked towards the center of the grand room. "This…is mine?" she breathed, turning in a slow circle to take in the high stained glass windows, the balcony behind her Ferelden-style bed with the mural of the Inquisition, the two carved owls over her bed and the one over the entrance to one of two balconies, the plush and intricate carpets she stood upon, the pure white and elegant sofa, the crackling grand fireplace, and the small library corner.

"We agreed to set aside the best for our leader."

Amariel gently ran her hand along one of the stained glass panes of the windows before one of the balconies, the one that overlooked Skyhold. "You've certainly spared no expense!" she said with a small laugh, slowly exiting to stand on the balcony. Cullen came up behind her, standing beside her as she leaned against the stone railing, looking out over Skyhold.

"The view's breathtaking," she said softly, and Cullen wondered if she knew he was staring, and not at Skyhold.

"It is…isn't it?" Cullen heard himself say, quickly looking out over Skyhold instead. He gestured down below them. "We cleared out the courtyard—it's right below us, where all the trees are. The battlements are almost completely repaired, there's one section that still needs work on the other side, but we can still get around it."

Cullen leaned a little closer to her, close enough to still smell the scent of evergreen from the forest on her, pointing around her in the direction of the gate. "Over there is where I've set up my office, the left-hand tower at the gates. If you ever need anything, I'll most likely be there."

"Right where you can always see if someone is coming—a strategic position, Commander," Amariel teased him lightly, looking at him with a smile upon her face. Cullen returned the smile, laughing softly.

"There may have been some strategic motivations, yes," Cullen mused. They stood in companionable silence for a while before Cullen decided to speak again, cautious that the moment didn't accidentally develop into more. "Forgive me—I've stolen much of your time all ready. I know you have things you wanted to do, and you would probably like some proper rest and basic necessities after your trip here. Your bath is on the balcony inside if you'd like to wash, first."

Cullen returned inside, Amariel trailing after him. "We have reports ready for you in the war room once you're ready. I'm glad you've made it back safely, Inquisitor," he finished, standing at the top of the stairwell.

"Thank you, Cullen…I'm glad to be back," Amariel said warmly, and with that, he disappeared down the stairs.

* * *

Cullen didn't see Amariel again for the rest of the day—though he heard that she spent all of it at the forge with Harritt. The same thing was said about half of the next day, though Cullen heard that she personally delivered the new equipment to her companions afterwards. If he hadn't been preoccupied in his office, he might have seen her, but he also knew she was busy, so he wasn't too disturbed about it.

He knew Amariel was out and about for the rest of that second day, though she must have been giving everyone a day off because though she did call a war council, she arranged to have it in the morning. Not that Cullen was about to complain—it gave him time to get a little more done and organize his reports.

So it was that three days after Amariel's return to Skyhold, Cullen, Leliana, and Josephine all waited in the war room for the impending arrival of their Inquisitor.

The door opened suddenly, and Amariel finally entered. "I'm sorry I'm late, Mother Giselle stopped me about something that will require my attention after this."

Cullen looked up, about to tell her that her tardiness was not an issue, but the words died on his lips and he stared. She looked…stunning. She'd apparently taken advantage of her free time to wash, and had chosen from some of the new clothes that had been provided for her. The black and silver accented uniform she wore was…exquisite on her, and Cullen found he lost all sense of himself for a few moments, unable to tear his gaze away.

Oh, how the Maker had blessed and cursed him in one stroke by putting this marvelous woman in his path.

"We don't mind, Inquisitor—it gave us a little more time to organize our reports," Leliana was stating as Amariel approached the table, placing a dark leather gloved hand upon the table.

"I'll be glad to hear them," Amariel told them gracefully. All eyes turned to Cullen, who hastily schooled his expression back to one of professionalism. He was the one with the most to report.

"We've received our new recruits, and I will continue to search for more. Now the tricky part: training," Cullen started. "The Western Approach and the Exalted Plains have both had footholds established, and our forces there are awaiting your arrival for what to do next."

"I won't keep them waiting too long, I promise," Amariel said, her other hand coming to rest on her hip. Leliana spoke next.

"We located possible camps for the Venatori Dorian told us about. I will mark the locations on your map so that if you come across them in your travels you can deal with them. I'm sure Dorian will be pleased."

"I'm sure he will," Amariel mused.

"Also, we located the Warden—or at least the general area he could be. He's good—we can't pinpoint him exactly, but we know he's in the area, and he's somewhere near Crestwood. But I also hear that things are not good out there, and there will be other matters that require your immediate attention," Leliana stated seriously. Amariel's eyes were alight with rapt attention as Leliana spoke, and Cullen practically knew what she was going to say before she even said it.

"Then that's our first stop," Amariel stated seriously.

"And while you're gone, Inquisitor?" Josephine asked.

"Leliana—did you find out anything about Rhys and Evangeline while I was gone?" Amariel asked, turning to the woman.

"Evangeline was last seen not far from Val Fermin, where a merchant described her as fighting other Templars and being taken, injured but alive. Rhys came through the area not long after, searching for her. The fortress near Val Fermin offers many places to hide, but the Inquisition could track down these renegade Templars if we so order. My agent Walker knows the area. She and her scouts can get Rhys and Evangeline out safely."

"Please, Leliana," Amariel said softly before turning back to the table. "Josephine, I remember you speaking of the merchant princes in the north that extended an offer of trade and alliance. Could you send diplomates to negotiate the terms?"

"Of course, My Lady, and I personally will inspect everything we sign," Josephine said promptly. Cullen chose that moment to speak.

"If I may…I received a letter from an old friend requesting help in evacuating a group of mages from Hasmal that are under threat into the ranks of the Inquisition. We have a few Templars within our ranks who would help ensure their safe passage if you would allow me to make the arrangements," Cullen said steadily.

"Of course, Cullen," Amariel said gently before Josephine called her attention away from Cullen.

"Before you go, there are a few matters that will require your attention. As Inquisitor, it is now up to you to judge some of the Inquisitions prisoners and deal out sentences as appropriate. We can bring them out after this, if you would like."

Amariel chewed on the inside of her lip for a few moments, then nodded. "All right, I can do that. Can we send someone to gather my things while I'm otherwise preoccupied so I may leave when it's over?"

"Yes, Inquisitor," Josephine said graciously, and they all disbanded. Josephine and Amariel made their way to the dais and throne, and though Cullen initially had the thought to return to his own office, he decided to linger to see how Amariel would handle this new responsibility.

People started to gather as, slowly, Amariel approached the throne and took a seat. She actually looked…intimidating, sitting in the blood red chair with black spikes in her black and silver officer uniform.

Thankfully, Josephine didn't start with the one Cullen thought might upset Amariel to see.

"This was a…surprise…a few days ago, we found this man attacking. The building. With a…goat," Josephine said haltingly. Amariel's eyebrows immediately rose in surprise and she stared at the Avaar man that was being brought forward in chains. "Chief Movran the Under. He feels slighted by the killing of his Avaar Tribesmen. Who repeatedly attacked you first. What should we do with him? Where should he go?"

Amariel was still staring at the Avaar, leaning back and steeping her fingers together, brow now furrowed in confusion. "You answered the death of your clan…with a goat?"

The man laughed. "A courtroom? Unnecessary! You killed my idiot son, and I answered, as is my custom, by smacking your holdings with goat's blood."

There was a few moments of silence, and Amariel looked to Josephine, eyebrows raised. "Don't look at me," Josephine said with a simple shake of her head.

"No foul!" the man continued. "He meant to murder Tevinters, but got feisty with your Inquisition. A redheaded mother guarantees a brat! Do as you've earned, Inquisitor. My clan yields. My remaining boys have brains still in their heads."

As the man laughed, Amariel gently touched her fingers to her lips, gears apparently working in her head before she came to her decision. "It seems our conflict was accidental, Chief Movran, but it can't be repeated." Amariel said smoothly, leaning forward in her chair. "I banish you and your clan—with as many weapons as you can carry…to Tevinter."

Cullen had to hide a smile, as did many people watching the proceedings. The Chief himself laughed out loud. "My idiot boy got us something after all!"

As Movran was led away, Cullen saw Amariel's lips twitch towards a smile, and it was obvious to him she was trying to hold it back and keep a straight face. However, the smile slipped from Cullen's face as he remembered the other prisoner they needed Amariel to judge.

This…would be interesting.

"You recall Gereon Alexius of Tevinter. Ferelden has given him to us as acknowledgement of your aid. The formal charges are apostasy, attempted enslavement, and attempted assassination—on your own life, no less. Tevinter has disowned and stripped him of his rank. You may judge the former magister as you see fit."

The look on Amariel's face made Cullen suddenly…wary of her. There was much anger, her entire expression hardened and a storm cloud appearing to gather in her facial features. Her clear blue eyes suddenly resembled unforgiving ice as they fixated on the man being brought before her in chains.

Someone suddenly spoke beside Cullen, making him jump slightly—he hadn't even heard a sound.

Cole.

"Anger, but mostly deep pain. A name on the cusp of her lips, so many dead, he's dead. Dorian, the only reason she's not still in that cell with him. Alexius' fault—he opened this door, caused this pain." Cole cocked his head to the side, the fabrics of his new medium armor shimmering in a deadly manner in the candlelight at the motion. "But…desperation. Alexius, trying to protect what he loved—Felix, now dead, Dorian says. A broken man—a different man. Did she already receive her revenge then? Dorian still cares, even if he pretends he doesn't. What should she do?"

Cole looked at a bewildered Cullen, who felt like he'd just heard something he wasn't supposed to have heard. "Can I go help her? She's hurting terribly, like she's injured, caught in a trap she can't escape…"

Cullen shook his head, glancing up at Amariel and wondering if all that really was behind those suddenly icy eyes. "No, Cole, you can't go up there now. She…has to sort this out on her own," Cullen said quietly, his brow suddenly furrowed in concern. On the other side, Cullen saw Dorian watching from the shadows with obvious concern on his face, though he was dressed in his new clothes with a new staff and ready to leave once the proceedings were over.

Amariel spoke.

"After what he's done, its time someone did," Amariel said coldly, leaning back in her chair and studying him like a black panther observing its prey.

"I couldn't save my son—do you think my fate matters to me?" Alexius sneered.

"Will you offer nothing more in your defense?" Josephine asked.

"You've won nothing!" Alexius spat. "The people you saved, the acclaim you've gathered—you'll lose it all in the storm to come. Render your judgment, Inquisitor."

Amariel's gaze hardened even more, and Cullen's frown deepened. Cole shifted uneasily. She leaned back, resting her cheek against her fist and heaving a sigh, taking a moment to close her eyes and think. Cole slowly started to relax beside Cullen.

"A breath of fresh air, much needed comfort, warmth from the cold…You were right," Cole told Cullen abruptly. "It's not me she needs. She still hurts in secret, but she feels less…tangled, less confused for now."

Amariel opened her eyes, no less unforgiving as they centered on Alexius, but clearer, and not so dark and furious. "You swore to the mages you'd help them. I will have you uphold that promise." Amariel leaned forward, her gaze boring into Alexius to punctuate her words. "Fiona will take charge of you. Any knowledge, favor, or coin you own will go towards the mages' future."

"A headsmen would have been kinder," Alexius grumbled before he was led away, and Amariel stood from her seat, smoothing out the wrinkles in her suit and taking a steadying breath as everyone slowly dispersed. Amariel started forward, and before she got too far Cullen caught up to her.

"Are you all right? We probably should have given you a heads up about him," Cullen admitted as they started down the stairs of the castle.

"I'll be okay, now that it's out of the way," Amariel admitted. They came to a stop before the gates, where her horses and her companions stood waiting, Dorian looking rather relieved on top of his horse. "Was there something you wanted to tell me?"

"Actually…yes. It won't be too long, just a few moments of your time before you head out," Cullen said, nodding in the direction of his office. Amariel glanced over at her companions, then let him take the lead to the tower. Cullen waited until they were both inside and the door firmly shut behind them to start speaking.

"I've found where the Red Templars came from," he started seriously. "Therinfal Redoubt. The Knights were fed red lyrium until they turned into monsters. _Samson_ took over after their corruption was complete."

Amariel's eyebrows rose slightly at his growled words. "How do you know Samson?"

"He was a Templar in Kirkwall, until he was expelled from the Order. I knew he was an addict, but this…" Cullen shook his head in disgust. "Red lyrium is nothing like the lyrium given by the Chantry. Its power comes with a terrible madness."

Amariel sighed. "The Red Templars swarming Haven were proof enough."

"We cannot allow them to gain strength." Cullen stated firmly. "The Red Templars still require lyrium. If we find their source, we can weaken them _and_ their leader."

Amariel's perceptive blue eyes studied him for a few heartbeats. "Are you angrier at Corypheus or Samson?"

"I don't know," Cullen admitted. "Samson at least should know better."

Sighing, Cullen stepped up to face her entirely. "Caravans of red lyrium are being smuggled along trade roads. Investigating them could lead to where it's being mined. If you confront them, be wary. Anything connected to Samson will be well guarded."

"I'll look into it, Cullen, you have my word," Amariel told him sincerely. Cullen inclined his head.

"I'll let you be on your way now, then," Cullen told her, moving back behind his desk. She was almost out the door when one more thing occurred to him. "Oh, and Inquisitor?"

Amariel paused, turning to look at him again from her place in front of the door.

"I respect your decisions on the fates of our prisoners today. I believe you judged them wisely and fairly," Cullen told her gently. Amariel smiled at him.

"Thank you, Cullen. It's reassuring," Amariel told him softly. "I'll see you when I return, hopefully with another Grey Warden close by."

"Until your return," Cullen agreed, and then she was gone.


	6. Chapter 6: Alistair

**_Here's the next chapter! (unfortunately not all my mistakes in here are corrected because the page refreshed while I was editing right before posting and I couldn't find all of my changes, so if there's a typo that's what happened)_**

 ** _I'm so happy I've finished this chapter haha_**

 ** _Onto the next!_**

 ** _PLLEEEAAASSSEEEE review guys, please?_**

 ** _Enjoy!_**

* * *

 _Cullen_

 _You know, you people have a very strange knack of sending me to places with a constant downpour that are swarming with the undead and all sorts of other strange things. There's a rift at the bottom of a lake that undead flow freely from here!_

 _I swear, if this is another Fallow Mire…_

 _Anyway, they've located the cave Hawke's Warden friend is in. We just have to get through the undead to get there._

 _Sounds easy enough, don't you think?_

 _You'll probably be receiving another letter not long after this—I decided to write as soon as we arrived so that you know what we're walking into as much as we do, and no doubt I'll go down this path and have more news for you._

 _(I think Dorian's rubbing off on me…oh no…)_

 _Amariel Lavellan_

Just as she suspected, Cullen received the second letter not long after the first, and even though the first had helped him laugh, the second sent him into deep thought.

 _Cullen_

 _I am pretty damn sure that Hawke's friend is_ the _Alistair. We ran into some Wardens who said they're hunting Ser Alistair of Ferelden, and they expressed their hope that if (Though they won't if I have a say about it) they find him, he comes quietly considering all the darkspawn he killed during the Blight._

 _Yes, hunting him, and thankfully they don't have as much luck as we do—they don't seem to know where he is. All they would say, however, is that Warden Commander Clarel demanded his arrest. They're not even allowed to help the villagers overrun with the undead while they're here—only find Alistair and if not, return at once. However, they asked us to help the villagers, and they seemed to doubt their orders, though they're still carrying them out._

 _Don't worry, of course we're helping Crestwood. I'm even writing this letter from the safety of Crestwood's village. We already have a plan in place, and as soon as I'm done writing we set out to take a keep, to secure a dam, to drain the lake, to close the rift, to stop the undead, so we can safely reach Alistair._

 _Nothing is ever easy for us, is it?_

 _Take care back at Skyhold._

 _Amariel Lavellan_

Cullen wearily pinched the bridge of his nose, wondering to himself just how much more complicated this tangled mess was going to get. They were already dealing with an archdemon-like dragon, Tevintor extremists, the Orlesian nobility, a magister darkspawn creature with a god-complex, rifts all over Thedas, an assassination plot against Empress Celine, and a potential demon army. Now the Wardens had something sinister going on as well to where they wouldn't help those in need in favor of tracking down Alistair to punish him for some unknown and mysterious crime? Surely there was more to the story than that?

Taking a moment, Cullen sat down at his desk and pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment to write his reply on. Once he'd finished, he disappeared to go smuggle a bird of Leliana's to use. He hoped the one he kept _borrowing_ was available—the one with the white feather on its breast—it seemed to be the only one that didn't try to scratch his eyes out when he tried to send a message.

The bird was there, and Cullen quietly coaxed the creature out of its cage and attached the letter to its leg. "All right…you know who to give this to. Go find Amariel at Crestwood," Cullen told the bird quietly before he let it fly, watching it disappear through the window before he turned and left as inconspicuously as he could.

* * *

Under cover of darkness, Amariel and her three companions crept close to the keep. Amariel's blood red dragonling scale leather and silvery silk masterwork scout armor did well to hide her from the darkness, her two new dual-bladed slicers—one of lazurite with a corrupting rune that made the blade more deadly to humans and one of summer stone that awaited a rune of its own once Amariel had the materials—glinted dangerously off of her back.

Blackwall had spotted archers at its top, and Amariel wanted to give them as much of a head start as possible. Switching to her bow, she knocked an arrow, searching from her cover on the ground for who would be the wiser target.

Perhaps she'd see about getting some more bow training in when they returned to Skyhold…

Searching the battlements of the keep, Amariel frowned when she saw no one. "Either I've gone blind, or these bandits don't know how to keep a guard on their keep," Amariel muttered, lowering her bow. Blackwall peeked over the rocks they were hiding behind, grunting.

"There aren't anymore."

"I'll go up high, see if I can spot anyone from above and pick them off from up there," Amariel suggested, darting across the open ground for cover on the other side of the road before she circled to the side of the keep, climbing up the steep rocks for a time until she could see down below into the keep. Dorian scaled the rocks with her, coming to rest beside her as she overlooked the keep with a frown. Dorian leaned against his new custom staff—complete with jeweled and bladed end with a deadly spike on the rod as well for those who got too close. She'd been told that however they'd crafted it caused his electrical spells to have a little more of a punch. The rain caused his deep blue and blood red silk brocade and highland weave enchanter armor and currently raised battlemage cowl to shine, the lazurite steel parts of his armor glowing a haunting purplish color with the flashes of lighting. No doubt the nug skin leather was proving resilient in keeping him warm and perhaps even mostly dry despite the rain.

"Nobody's home?" Dorian asked in mock incredulity.

"It would appear that way…but we know they're in there…" Amariel murmured, putting her bow back in its rightful place. "It seems we'll have to knock."

"It's all about the theatrics with you, isn't it?" Dorian asked with a shake of his head. Amariel grinned at him.

"What are you talking about? You're the one who grandstands and waits for the applause—the one with the flair for the dramatic."

"You're right, I am," Dorian replied with a grin of his own. "I'm the one with that skill in this party. As for you…well, your talent lies in destroying and killing things, it would seem."

"You act like that's all I ever do," Amariel tutted.

"Isn't it?" Dorian asked innocently.

"All right, let's make a deal—you bring the flair, wit, and charm, I bring the sarcasm, death, and destruction."

"Sounds like a good enough deal for me," Dorian mused, and the two carefully made their way back down the slope to Cole and Blackwall.

"We're knocking," Amariel said with a smile. Blackwall sighed, pulling the Warden shield—the one she'd crafted for him along with the new bloodstone heavy Warden armor he now wore—off of his back.

"Of course we are," he said with a shake of his head.

"Why would we knock? Wouldn't that let them know we're here?" Cole asked in confusion. He was wearing custom hunter armor Amariel had made him before she brought him anywhere of drakestone metal armoring, highland weave and ring velvet cloth, and ram leather, and she'd passed on two of her previous daggers to him once she'd upgraded to her dual slicers—two rare blades she'd found, one being the one she found in the future Redcliffe. Now, Cole was the owner of the Bleeder of Souls and the Blade of Tuhna Allied. At least until Amariel had the tools to make him something even better or she found something better.

"We're not going to _actually_ knock, Cole. We're humorously stating that we're going to bust the door down and start attacking everything in sight to take the keep since they've all disappeared and we've lost any ability to strategically take this keep. I don't even see a back door," Amariel said with a sigh.

"Well then, let's hop to it before they notice us chatting about how we're going to singlehandedly attack their keep—that'll give them time to get over their surprise that we would do something so stupid!" Dorian chided them.

Amariel laughed quietly, and the group returned to the path that led to the door. "Dorian, Blackwall?" she asked, and without hesitation Blackwall situated the shield on his arm, got into position, and waited until Dorian had cast two or three fireballs at the door to weaken it before he charged, breaking the door open and allowing them to swarm inside.

The first thing Amariel saw as she entered was the dogs. But Cole and Blackwall were already handling them. What she focused on was the archers scurrying to stand on top of the shed in front of them to shoot arrows down at her friends. Pulling the blades off of her back, Amariel raced up the steps to her right, made a sharp turn, and leapt over the railing down onto the top of the shed, where she was able to quickly stab the first archer in the back before spinning away and slitting the other archer's throat. There was a warrior with a nasty looking mace coming down the left hand steps, so Amariel leapt off of the roof and launched herself at him, her blades digging into his neck and shoulder so deeply that he fell almost instantly. As she stood, her other three companions approached her, bloodstained but ready. Amariel sheathed her daggers, pulling out her bow once more.

"Now that we're inside, we can try stealth," she said with a wink, knocking an arrow and keeping her bow drawn as she crept quietly up the stairs, the other three behind her. She peeked over the edge of the stairs, seeing two swordsmen just ahead, and on the balcony behind them—where they eventually needed to get—an archer stood ready. Amariel drew her bow, crouching low and carefully lining up the shot.

"I'll take out the archer. There are two swordsmen you might want to take care of Cole, Blackwall," Amariel whispered, waiting for their confirming nods before she let the arrow fly. The archer fell instantly, and Cole and Blackwall charged forward to attack the swordsmen. Knowing reinforcements would probably come from above at the noise, Amariel stayed further back with Dorian, quickly notching another arrow and aiming towards the point where the tower met the balcony the archer she'd killed had been standing. She waited only a few seconds before another archer appeared, and Amariel let her arrow fly, felling the archer while Dorian sent a ball of ice that froze the shield and longsword carrying warrior who'd been right behind him.

"Come on, let's keep moving," Amariel said seriously as she put up her longbow, pulling out her daggers once more. If they were about to enter tight quarters she didn't want to be restrained to the bow—she'd rather have her trusty new friends.

As they passed through one small tower and entered a much smaller one, Amariel heard voices, harried orders. "Well, they know we're here."

"Excellent—the next wave will actually be prepared for us!" Dorian said in a mockingly cheery voice.

They came up a flight of stairs, made their way through a large vendetta of sorts, then came out on a wide platform that had several soldiers. Amariel immediately picked out the archer, and without any warning rushed him, shoving a blade through his chest before he could even finish notching his arrow. Her three companions were unfazed, knowing that Amariel usually targeted the archers first—she didn't like the thought of someone standing back peppering her and her companions with pesky or even deadly arrows while they were focused on someone else.

Dorian, Cole, and Blackwall made quick work of the other two swordsmen that had been accompanying the archer, though Amariel zoned in on the rapidly approaching reinforcements that included two archers, a warrior armed with longsword and shield…and one huge ruddy red Qunari with one nasty looking mace in hand. Amariel grimaced.

 _Lovely. It's the Avaar chief's son all over again_.

"Dorian, keep me covered!" Amariel shouted as she sprinted forward, dancing around the shielded warrior to dig her blade into the side of one of the archers, ducking under a fireball Dorian sent at the other archer as he tried to stab her with the end of his bow. The man caught ablaze, especially when Dorian sent another, so Amariel paid him no mind, instead digging her other dagger into the neck of the archer she was dealing with. She quickly disengaged after that, leaping out of the way as the Qunari tried to bring his mace down on her head. Behind her, Blackwall clashed with the warrior, locking shields with him while Cole suddenly disappeared from view, only to reappear behind the poor warrior and stab him in the back.

That left the giant angry Qunari.

Amariel rushed him, slicing him along the side and then quickly jumping away before she could get caught by a limb, weapon, or horn. Blackwall charged the Qunari, blocking the mace with his shield and getting in a good slice with his longsword while Cole attacked in much the same way Amariel was, hitting and then jumping to safety. Dorian tossed a few fireballs his way, fireballs the Qunari blocked with his mace before Dorian switched to lightning, striking the Qunari with a lightning bolt that stunned him long enough for Amariel to leap in from behind and dig her blades into his back. She hung on for dear life as the Qunari roared, trying to shake her off. Cole appeared, digging one deadly dagger into the Qunari's shoulder blade and using that foothold to launch himself up and dig his other blade into the Qunari's neck. Amariel let go at that point, not knowing which way the Qunari would fall and not wanting to get crushed, or worse—impaled by the _other_ end of her dual daggers.

The man fell, and Amariel heaved a sigh, pulling the daggers out of his back. "Well, I'm glad that's over with."

Dorian was already inspecting the now empty keep. "You know, we could throw the Inquisition's banner over the battlements. The villagers may not even object," he mused.

"Or raise the flag…either way. We'll do so, see what they say," Amariel said with a sigh, making her way over to the flagpole she could see sticking out from behind some crumbling walls. "You have the flag we brought, right Dorian?"

"You wound me with your doubt," Dorian teased, pulling the folded up flag out of one of his larger pouches and giving to her to raise.

That was part of their task done…and it was one keep for the Inquisition to claim as a stronghold of their own.

* * *

It took a little while, but after Amariel informed Scout Harding that they'd taken the keep and had started setting up camp, some of the Inquisition's men came to hold the fort, and a merchant from Crestwood even came to trade goods with the Inquisition. Amariel and the others only lingered long enough to set up tents, fire pits, food storages, and anything absolutely necessary before they resolved to make their way to the dam—they needed to drain the lake so they could close the rift. Then they'd have a clear shot to Alistair and the villagers would be safe from the undead. At least that was the plan.

They made their way to the back exit of the keep, going through the wine cellar and out a back door to follow a narrow path that lead to the dam.

"Hey, what do you know, there was a back door," Amariel said with a short laugh. Blackwall sighed.

"Well, it's too late for that now," Dorian muttered as they made their way down the path. They eventually came to a decrepit tavern, and after chasing out an odd couple who had chosen the tavern as their retreat, they found the wheel that would open the dam and drain the lake.

All four of them pitched in to turn the wheel quickly, and soon they could hear the sound of thundering water.

"Well, it sounds like it worked," Amariel said with a smile, straightening her bow on her back and making her way back through the tavern. They had just stepped outside the tavern's doors when there was a sudden gust of furious wind and a thundering roar up ahead. Amariel looked up to see a large purple and white dragon, it's clawed feet just two or three feet above her head.

"Fasta vass!" her and Dorian exclaimed in nigh tandem.

"Can we ever have an uneventful day?" Blackwall shouted. Thankfully, the dragon either didn't notice them or ignored them, because it simply continued flying until it disappeared into the clouds. Amariel stood there for a moment, catching her breath.

"All right…now that we've had that lovely experience…let's go in the opposite direction and close that rift, yes?" Amariel asked pointedly.

"Yes, let's. I don't particularly feel like taking on a dragon today," Dorian mused, and they pushed forward, wary eyes now searching the sky for any other sign of the dragon.

The trip back to old Crestwood was uneventful, though once they reached the now revealed, destroyed town, Amariel felt a great sadness overtake her. There were bodies and skulls of those who had perished ten years ago everywhere, and spirits roamed everywhere. Cole kept trying to talk to them, but for the most part they were ignoring them, or didn't notice them. There were a few demons they had to disperse of, and at one point they ran into an exasperated command spirit that only wanted to be obeyed by _something_.

For the sake of giving the pour soul enough ease to go back to its world where it was comfortable, Amariel agreed to kill a rage demon.

Though at the same time…talking to the command spirit gave her an insight that surprised her greatly, but also put her at great ease and gave her some comfort.

When Cole had tried to speak to the command spirit…the spirit had called Cole Compassion.

Cole was a compassion spirit.

Now she was definitely going to ignore everyone telling her to send him away. Why would she kick out Compassion? After some of her talks with Solas in her spare time, she understood how spirits could be friends just as with anyone else—in fact, she remembered Solas saying he was friends with Wisdom.

She'd already liked having Cole around, but finding out he was Compassion sealed her decision. Cole would stay.

As they explored Old Crestwood, they eventually came to what looked like an old mine entrance, and Amariel picked up her pace.

"I think we've found what we were looking for," Amariel said with a sigh as she came to a stop in front of the door. It took a few tugs on the handle, but eventually Amariel got it open, and Dorian used some of his handy fire magic to produce light until they found something they could use for torches.

One by one they climbed down two ladders into the caves below. Dorian saw unlit torches lining the walls, so as they passed he used his magic to light them, creating a continuous path for them to follow.

The cave plunged deeper and deeper underground, and eventually turned more into an astounding—but also creepy, considering all the corpses and spirits—cavern. There were perilous drops and rickety old woodwork that made Amariel leery, but they had to go this way to get to the rift. At one point she miss-stepped, and almost plunged down into the darkness below, but Blackwall managed to catch her. After that they stayed as far from the edges as they could.

Amariel was immensely surprised when, at the end of one of their many twisting plunges down underground, the broken and creepy cavern gave way to dwarven ruins that were still—somehow—alight in dark red light.

At the very end of the straight and relatively intact dwarven ruins, they finally found their fade rift. They'd hardly approached when about eight wraiths appeared, sending them immediately on the offensive.

At least wraiths weren't that difficult. In fact, Cole and Amariel were the fastest of their group, and dispersed of most of the wraiths themselves, spinning from one wraith to the next and on until the fade spit out more, plus a few demons. Dorian and Blackwall took care of the demons while Amariel and Cole tore through the wraiths once more, though the rift sent yet another wave at them, and Amariel wondered just how many waves they would fight through before they had weakened the rift enough to close it.

After four waves, a rage demon, four lesser terrors, a handful of demons, and countless wraiths, they finally got the chance for Amariel to leap forward and close the now weakened breach. The shockwave echoed painfully through the cavern, but they still had their hearing.

"We should probably tell the mayor that the rift is closed and the dead will stop rising now. And since we don't have to deal with the undead anymore, we can find Alistair," Amariel said, stretching and popping her neck.

* * *

After being in the dark cave and before that the darkness of a storm covered land, it was unheavenly bright outside when they emerged, and Amariel had to shield her eyes. Had they been down their unknowingly for a ridiculous amount of time, or had the storm been caused because of the rift?

Either way, they had work to do, so Amariel didn't complain. She instead reported the slaying of the rage demon to the command spirit to put it at ease, then the entire party went to the New Crestwood, expecting to go through the motions where they were thanked, they offered their support, pacts were made, etcetera. Instead, to their immense surprise, they found a note left in the wake of the Mayor's disappearance that acted as a confession that the flood that had killed everyone in Old Crestwood had not been because of darkspawn, but had been caused on purpose by the Mayor.

Certainly not the turn she had expected. And they still had to find their Grey Warden.

It was turning out to be a long day.

After giving a Chantry Mother in Crestwood the location of the bodies she wanted to recover for a proper burial from Old Crestwood, the four finally set out to find the cave Alistair was hiding in.

As it turned out, it wasn't the finding of the cave that was hard so much as the _getting_ to the cave. On the way there alone, they ran into eight assassins, had two druffalos and a wolf decide to pick a fight with them, and ran into a rift that decided to spit out some sort of demon Amariel hadn't come face to face with yet but really hated fighting. They set up a camp at one point, but by now Amariel was tired and just wanted to find Alistair so they could go back to Skyhold. She had a burn on her arm from the rage demon, a nasty cut on her cheek from an assassin, and she hurt from the damage the new demon had done to her in the fight.

So, when Dorian suddenly called out, "Hawke's Warden friend should be in that cave!" Amariel breathed a sigh of relief.

"Finally. I'm ready to head home," she muttered, plodding up the hill.

"Don't tell me you've already lost your energy, Inquisitor!" Dorian asked in mock horror. Amariel rolled her eyes.

"I'm tired, Dorian, it happens."

"You? Never."

At that point Amariel spotted Hawke standing outside the cave, which meant an end to their conversation. Stretching one last time, Amariel approached her.

"Glad you made it—I just got here myself," Hawke told her. "My contact with the Wardens should be at the back of the cave."

"He's not the only Warden around here—it's a good thing his _friends_ didn't find him in Crestwood," Amariel told her with a frown, following her deeper into the cave.

"Yes, I saw them. They've been ordered to capture and bring him in. How much blood is shed by good men following bad orders?" Hawke murmured, and their conversation ended their, Amariel taking the lead at some point and getting a little ahead.

As she entered the main chamber of the cave through, surprisingly, a doorway, like it was a hideout long before Alistair arrived. In fact, it probably was considering the bandit sign that had been on the front of the wooden wall and door that separated the main chamber from the hall of the cave. Amariel looked around, slightly impressed that Alistair had found such a nice cave to hide in. A fire was crackling on a natural shelf of weathered stone, there was a table in the back with some parchment and books…

There was the sound of a sword unsheathing, and Amariel turned to find an admittedly handsome light-ginger haired Grey Warden—she might have thought that because he looked a little like Cullen—pointing a sword unwaveringly at her face, distrust and suspicion bright in his light brown eyes.

"It's just us—I brought the Inquisitor," Hawke said quickly as she entered once she saw Alistair pointing a sword at Amariel. Alistair didn't lower his sword, however, studying Amariel intently as she stared calmly back at him. At least until Blackwall entered—then he relaxed considerably, lowering his sword and speaking for the first time.

"Wait…you have a Grey Warden with you," Alistair stated, eyes now locked on the man in full Warden gear. Amariel was suddenly glad everything she'd given him had ended up being Grey Warden equipment she found or made.

"Warden Blackwall," Blackwall said simply, inclining his head. Alistair's eyebrows rose slightly, a small smile starting to curl at the corners of his lips.

"You're Blackwall? Uh, Duncan—my mentor—he spoke of you."

"Duncan. Of course. Good man," Blackwall said in a slightly halting voice, and Amariel had to wonder if Blackwall actually remembered this Duncan.

She didn't get to dwell on it long, because Alistair was now speaking again.

"I'm Alistair. It's an honor to meet all of you. I wish it were…someplace nicer," he finished quietly.

"I've got to ask the question that's been on everyone's mind since Hawke said your name, so…are you _the_ Alistair who fought the archdemon with the Hero of Ferelden?" Amariel asked carefully.

"I need to change my name…" Alistair said softly, a half smile sliding across his face. "Yes, that was me. War, betrayal, darkspawn: All _lots_ of fun, and made for _excellent_ stories, I'm sure. Nobody cares about that anymore. I answer to Warden Commander Clarel now, like everyone else."

"I'll take all the help I can get. I know the Wardens have troubles of their own," Amariel stated graciously. "I wonder, though, might those troubles have anything to do with Corypheus?"

"When Hawke killed Corypheus, the Wardens thought the matter resolved. But archdemons don't die from simple injury. I feared Corypheus might have the same power, so I…I started to investigate." He made his way to the table Amariel had noticed earlier, his back facing them. Alistair's voice had dropped to a bare whisper, and the only reason they heard him was because his words echoed in the cave. "I found hints, but no proof. And then, not long after, every Warden in Orlais began to hear the Calling."

"Maker, why didn't you tell me?" Hawke breathed, eyes widening.

Alistair's head tilted slightly in her direction, but he didn't turn around. "It was a secret—a very dangerous one. I try to actually keep a few of my oaths to the Wardens."

Amariel's brow furrowed in confusion. "Is the Calling some sort of Grey Warden ritual?"

"Well…" Alistair said hesitantly, turning to face her now. "Wardens are tied to the darkspawn. We're connected somehow…and eventually that connection poisons you. You get bad dreams, and then you start to hear the music…"

Alistair's voice grew soft once more, casting his gaze down. "It calls to you. Quiet, at first, and then so loud…you can't bear it." Alistair straightened. "At that point, you say farewell, and go into the Deep Roads to die fighting. In death, sacrifice."

"And every Grey Warden in Orlais is hearing that right now? They think they're dying?" Amariel asked for clarification.

"Yes, I think Corypheus caused this somehow. If all the Wardens die, who will stop the next blight? That's what has them _so_ _terrified_."

"Thanks to the Calling, Corypheus has them scared…and they're playing right into his hands," Hawke said bitterly.

"Is the Calling they're hearing real, or is Corypheus mimicking it somehow?" Amariel asked curiously.

"I have no idea. Before all this, I'd barely heard of Corypheus. I didn't even know he was supposed to be a _magister_ until I started digging around. Right now, all that matters is the Wardens are acting like they're _going_ to _die_ ," Alistair stated firmly.

"You said all the Wardens are hearing the Calling. Does that include you? And also you, Blackwall?" Amariel asked, glancing between the two.

"Unfortunately, yes," Alistair said quietly. "When I'm talking or fighting, I can almost ignore it. But whenever things are quiet…I can hear it. It's like a song you can't get out of your head…Damned annoying, frankly," he quipped at the end.

"I do not fear the Calling. And worrying about it only gives it power. Anything Corypheus does will only strengthen my resolve," Blackwall said gruffly.

"But how? How can Corypheus make all these Wardens hear the Calling?" Amariel asked.

"I have no idea—I suppose it's part of what he is. Corypheus is tied to the Blight, and not just a product of it like most darkspawn. Wardens are connected to the darkspawn too—that's how he seems able to control Wardens who get too close to him. And that's likely what he's doing here as well…somehow."

Amariel sighed. "So the Wardens are making some last desperate attack on the darkspawn?"

Alistair's expression changed to one of deep seated concern, and he started to pace. "I saw what a Blight did to Ferelden. If Wardens hadn't stopped it, there'd be no more Thedas!" He calmed down, taking a breath. "Warden Commander Clarel proposed some drastic things—blood magic and such—to prevent future Blights before we die. I protested…maybe too loudly…and Clarel sent guards and I…well, here I am."

Alistair pointed to a spot on the map on his table. "Wardens were gathering here, in the Western Approach," he left the table, moving past them towards the mouth of the cave. "It's an old…Tevinter ritual tower. I'm going to investigate. I could use some help."

Amariel turned to face him. "Then consider us on board—I needed to head there anyway. We'll have to stop at Skyhold on the way there, however. There are other matters I'll have to attend to there, first."

Alistair inclined his head. "Whatever you need to get ready."

They had hardly past the entrance to the cave when Amariel heard an increasingly familiar crow, and she looked up to see one of Leliana's birds gliding down towards her. She stuck out her arm for the bird to land on, giving it a smile as she worked to take the scroll off of it's leg.

"What has the dear Commander have to say to us now?" Dorian asked slyly, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"How do you know it's from the Commander?" Blackwall asked skeptically, folding his arms over his chest.

"Play nice you two," Amariel scolded them, guiding the bird onto her shoulder. "It's got the one white feather on its breast—Cullen always uses this one when he sends me a message."

The bird gently pulled at a strand of her hair, which Amariel didn't mind, letting it do so as she unrolled the scroll.

 _Lady Lavellan_

 _No rest for the wicked, Lady Lavellan. And I'm far more concerned about you out there than you should be concerned about us here at Skyhold—you're on the front lines, we're simply making arrangements in the safety of this fortress._

 _Please be careful—and exercise caution. Still, I know that you'll be able to do what must be done to recover Hawke's friend. We're ready to act, whatever you may find with Alistair, and have reports of our own ready for you upon your arrival._

 _And I'll be sure you have a warm meal waiting for you when you arrive, Inquisitor, if conditions are as bad as they were at the Fallow Mire._

 _Keep me informed as to what's going on—I'll be awaiting your response._

 _Commander Cullen_

Amariel smiled as she read his words, feeling that comfort in her heart once more before she rolled it back up and tucked it away. "Come on—we'll get the horses from the keep and head for Skyhold. And if anyone tells Cullen about storming the keep or the dragon, you'll have to deal with me."

"Yes, Sir, Inquisitor!" Dorian said with a mock salute.

* * *

 _Cullen_

 _You worry about me far too much sometimes, though I appreciate it all the same—truly, I do._

 _We made it safely through to Alistair, and yes, it's been confirmed that he is_ the _Alistair. He's traveling with us and Hawke back to Skyhold—we'll explain more when we arrive and manage to get in a war council. I'm sure you've heard by now that we captured a keep, so our reach is now a little farther._

 _We're on our way back now—I'll hold you to that promise of a warm meal. Maker knows I need a moment to breath every now and then, so the war council will not be as soon as I arrive._

 _I'll see you at the gate._

 _Amariel Lavellan_

The letter was safely tucked inside of an inner pocket, and when word had been sent that Amariel and her group were fast approaching Cullen had ordered a hot meal to be made and kept warm for her, true to his word. Now he stood by the gate, waiting patiently for her arrival and trying to quash his concerns about being faced with both Hawke and Alistair.

Though it was probably best if he just didn't think of it and just focused on Amariel.

The horses appeared on the other side of the bridge—six instead of four now—and Cullen called a few soldiers that didn't look busy over to take the horses when the party reached them. Amariel rode in front on her Dalish All-Breed paint, impossible to miss with the gleaming new daggers on her back. He had yet to see her new gear, and he was admittedly impressed—she'd chosen well.

Dorian rode beside her as always, and not for the first time—though usually he wondered in private, when his thoughts wandered from work or Amariel alone—if there was something between them. They definitely were close, and Cullen _had_ seen Amariel flirt with Dorian…but was it going anywhere? Was there something more between the two?

Cullen put those thoughts aside, reluctantly taking in the two companions that rode close by Amariel as well—Hawke and Alistair.

He'd thought he wouldn't see them again, but now they were right there—Hawke looking just as she had at Kirkwall, if not more experienced, and Alistair looking…weathered by experienced but dignified. There was a strong commanding air about him Cullen had come to spot that hadn't been there at…at the tower.

Cullen shook his head, throwing his attention briefly past Hawke and Alistair to see Blackwall and Cole bringing up the rear. Though back at the front, Amariel smiled as she saw Cullen waiting right where she'd asked him to be, coming to a graceful stop before him. Cullen took her hand without hesitation to help her down.

"Inquisitor," he said with a respectful inclination of his head. "Are you all right?" he asked, taking in the injuries she was spotted with. Amariel sighed.

"Nothing that will kill me, Cullen, I've had much worse, but thank you," Amariel said, giving him a gentle smile near the end. Dorian was about to slip past them, but Amariel reached out and gently touched his arm. "Dorian, don't go too far, there's something I need to talk to you about when you have the time."

"Oh? That sounds quite intriguing, Inquisitor…I can't wait to hear more," he mused. Amariel rolled her eyes, though Cullen could see that whatever she wanted to talk about was, in fact, serious.

Amariel turned back to him. "How much have I missed?" Amariel asked.

"We all have reports ready for you when we call a war council. Also, Solas has been acting…stranger than normal. You might want to speak with him. And if you every find Sera you might want to rein her in—her _pranks_ are starting to cause more and more trouble," Cullen grumbled. He could see Amariel was fighting a smile.

"If I see her I'll talk to her, though I can't guarantee that I'll do any good," she mused.

Suddenly, Cole approached the two, drawing their attention away.

"You both hurt in such similar ways…if you both told each other why, the hurt wouldn't be so bad!" Cole said in that strange tone of his. Those opening words made Cullen feel surprised and embarrassed enough to feel heat rising, but his next words made all color drain from his face considering everyone who was there to hear. "You can talk about Uldred and Meredith and you tell him about Re—"

Dorian quickly cut in before Cole could do any more damage, grasping the young man by the shoulders and forcibly dragging him the other way. "Cole, why don't we go this way?"

"But why? I'm trying to—"

"I don't know, just come over here instead!" Dorian said, agitation clear in his voice.

"But I'm trying to help!"

"You're not helping."

For the first time, awkwardness fell between the two as Cole disappeared. Amariel looked a little shaken herself, though at least whatever Cole had been about to say about her hadn't been laid bare before all yet.

"He…means well," Amariel said haltingly, shifting uncomfortably.

"Where do you even find these people?" Cullen remarked.

"They actually tend to find me," Amariel reminded him gently before she put on her mask of calm once more, turning back to their company. "Anyway, now that the moment of awkwardness has past and I've made you two stand there for a while, I apologize—Commander Cullen, Warden Alistair and Adalinia Hawke…though I've gathered you all have met already to some degree."

"Hardly under the best of circumstances, but yes, we've met…sort of…briefly…" Alistair said with a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest. Cullen tried not to grimace.

"Yes, and it was a long time ago…and better left in the past, despite Cole's insistence to bring it up," Cullen said with a world-weary sigh. Amariel's eyebrows rose.

"Happens often?" she asked simply.

"Oh yes, quite," Cullen said with a shake of his head.

"Well, you're welcome to explore before we head out. It may be a day or two, but I'll try not to keep us here too long," Amariel told them. "And you don't have to be strangers, either, most of the people here will leave you be if you're out and about, so don't be afraid to venture to the tavern or something."

Cullen was grateful for the quick change in topic to something far more practical, and he nodded. "We also have temporary quarters for both of you set up in the far northwest tower—we figured the space would give you privacy."

"We'll leave you to your work, then," Hawke said diplomatically, giving Amariel a small nod before she walked off towards the tavern, possibly to seek out Varric. Alistair hesitated for a moment, but then strolled for the stairs that would take him up to the battlements, disappearing from view.

After a few moments of silence, Amariel turned to Cullen. "Well, I should probably get busy—with what Alistair said, it sounds like what's going on with the Wardens is urgent, and we can't stay here too long."

"Actually, before you go anywhere…there is _something_ I _must_ tell you…in private, when you have the time," Cullen said slowly. Amariel seemed wary at his words, and after Cole's interjection he could see why. "It's something that…as the leader of the Inquisition…" Cullen sighed, finding it difficult to come clean. He'd thought long and hard about this confession, had spent who knew how much time staring at the little box on his desk, open but unused each time, the chains of his past he was fighting to shake off…

Amariel gently touched his forearm, a gesture of comfort he desperately needed at the moment. "Whatever it is, I'll listen," she said gently. Cullen looked at her, the sincere and accepting look on her face making this a little easier.

"Thank you…we should take this back to my office," Cullen said seriously, pulling away just enough to lead the way.

* * *

Alistair was only in the tower long enough to find where he would be staying before he left. Not wanting to brave trying to mingle among everyone else yet, he idly made his way along the battlements, looking out at the view of the mountains that Skyhold had to offer.

With how much the quiet gave the blasted Calling room to annoy him, he did need some quiet to try and sort out his thoughts on what was going on.

The Inquisitor was a surprise—not what he'd been expecting in the least. He looked at her, and saw his Aurora, in a way. A rogue elven woman wielding dual blades as she commanded forces against evil, small at first but gradually growing in number, a skilled warrior—they'd run into bandits on their way back and the Inquisitor had brushed through them like they were nothing—who moved with the same fluid grace Aurora did (though that might have been an elf thing), and even some similar features, like the blonde hair, blue eyes (Though Aurora's were a different shade), and the fair complexion. She could smile and laugh and tease with her companions despite the serious situation and danger all around them—he'd seen plenty of that on the ride to Skyhold—and she seemed to get along well with people of all backgrounds. For crying out loud, she'd brought a Tevinter Mage, a Grey Warden, and a…well…whatever that Cole was with her to find Alistair. And upon arriving Alistair found, of all people, Cullen Rutherford was her Commander, though that was a surprise for…multiple reasons.

Of course there was the obvious—Alistair hadn't expected to run into the Templar ever again.

But to see him the Commander of an institution that had allied with the mages instead of the Templars, especially after the events at the circle, when Rutherford had called for all the mages to be killed…

Not to mention Alistair had not missed the grateful look Rutherford had given Dorian as he'd guided Cole away. Rutherford seemed comfortable in the mage's presence, almost.

All this, despite the past apparently still being clear to him, as demonstrated by the scene with Cole, Rutherford, and the Inquisitor.

Alistair came to a sudden stop, pausing before the tower he'd been about to enter when he heard the voices of Rutherford and the Inquisitor inside.

"…it controls us as well. Those cut off suffer—some go mad, others die. We have secured a reliable source of lyrium for the Templars here. But I…no longer take it," Alistair could hear Rutherford saying, his voice nearly as vulnerable as it had been back at the Circle—though definitely not as crazed or delirious.

 _I probably shouldn't be hearing this_ , he thought idly, though something possessed him to keep listening—he decided it was a curiosity to find out more about his host.

"You stopped?" the Inquisitor said, sounding surprised.

"When I joined the Inquisition…it's been months now."

"Cullen, if this can kill you—" the Inquisitor started to say, her voice laced with a fear and worry that went deeper than a leader concerned about one of her charges, or even a friend.

Alistair would know—Aurora had been his superior, basically, in a time of war. He knew exactly what those kinds of refrained feelings looked and sounded like.

"It hasn't yet. After what happened in Kirkwall, I couldn't…I will not be bound to the Order—or that life—any longer. Whatever the suffering, I accept it," Rutherford replied, voice laced with determination. "But I would not put the Inquisition at risk. I have asked Cassandra to…watch me. If my ability to lead is compromised, I will be relieved from duty."

"Are you in pain?" the Inquisitor asked him softly.

"I can endure it," Rutherford said in determination.

"Thank you for telling me, Cullen…I respect what you're doing, and I hope it works out," the Inquisitor said sincerely.

"Thank you, Inquisitor," Rutherford replied gently. "The Inquisition's army must always take priority. Should anything happen…I will defer to Cassandra's judgement."

"Cullen…" There were a few moments of silence, and then… "If anything does happen—and that's a very large if on my part—don't be afraid to come to me…if you need to. I'm always willing to listen."

"I—I'll keep that in mind…thank you, again."

"It's my pleasure."

There was the sound of another door opening, as well as some small container being snapped shut as a new voice entered. "Commander, I have a note from Leliana—she wants to know why you took one of her birds."

To Alistair's surprise—he was already surprised to hear Leliana's name again, though he _was_ eavesdropping on the Inquisitor's more personal affairs at the moment to get a better feel for her so it was what demanded his attention at the time—the Inquisitor laughed.

"Did you smuggle Leliana's bird to send your letter, Commander?"

Rutherford sighed. "I just borrowed it…it's not the same thing."

"I'll tell her then, Commander," the new voice said, and there was the sound of the door shutting.

"I see duty is calling once more. I'll leave you be for now, Commander," the Inquisitor stated.

"Another time…oh, and that meal is waiting for you in your quarters—as I promised."

"Thank the maker—a nice hot _good tasting_ meal…I'll probably make my way there through the kitchens to see if they can whip something up for Alistair and Hawke as well."

 _Well, now that my ears are burning,_ Alistair thought, turning to walk over to the edge of the battlement wall. He leaned against the stone in front of him, casting his gaze over the bridge of Skyhold.

So Rutherford was working on shaking the chains of the Templar Order. He had changed since Alistair had last seen him—kicking lyrium was no small task. Alistair himself had taken lyrium while a Templar recruit, and knew the stuff to be addicting—he'd seen the state the senior Templars could be in regarding lyrium. The fact Rutherford had been off the substance for months was…impressive. Hopefully his streak would continue.

As for the Inquisitor…he felt she had a good heart, and from what he'd seen she genuinely cared for her people. Again, she reminded him strongly of his Aurora, so he could see why he felt she might be suited for this role. Aurora wouldn't have wanted command of any organization any more than Alistair had wanted the throne, however. Perhaps the Inquisitor felt the same, but had taken it because she had to. In that sense, it would be a comfort to know she wasn't after power.

The door to Rutherford's office opened, his annoyed voice clear as he crossed the section of the battlement, a harried messenger two paces behind him.

"Tell Vivienne that even if this _were_ a Circle I would not be required to answer to _her_!"

The poor messenger seemed reluctant to give such a message to a mage. "I…um…"

Rutherford sighed, seeming to realize the position that would put her in. "Never mind, I'll handle it. And this is for Cole, could you give it to him?"

The messenger's brows furrowed as she took a piece of folded up parchment from him. "For who, Ser?"

"Cole, he….oh, never mind. I don't know why I'm bothering. Take it to the stairs near the tavern and…er… _wave it around_ or something. _Someone_ will figure it out," Rutherford said in exasperation.

"Yes, Ser," the messenger said, heading in the opposite direction. Rutherford noticed Alistair then, and their eyes met, a flicker of the past reflecting in the poor man's eyes. Alistair inclined his head slightly in a show of respect, one Rutherford wordlessly returned before an approaching soldier garnered Rutherford's attention.

Hopefully the tension of the past—or at least memories of it—would disappear in time. It was evident both of them wished to put the event behind them. Alistair only wished his presence didn't serve as the reminder for the poor man—it seemed his hands were full enough already.

* * *

Since there was a hot meal waiting for her, Amariel went to her chambers first. Besides, she'd agreed to Cullen's request as she left—his tone had melted her resolve without any resistance.

 _And please take care of yourself?_

He'd been regarding her slightly worn state of being and her injuries, and secretly asking that she take a moment to breathe as well, as she'd said she needed to do every now and then. She wasn't about to deny him that.

So, after eating her meal and making the arrangements for something to be sent to Alistair and Hawke as well, Amariel took the time for a long, much needed bath, cleaning her wounds herself—the ones she could, anyway—and resolving to get the rest looked at later.

After the bath she dressed in something that would be suited to a spar—there was lots of leather in this case, the white leather knee-high boots, white leather elbow high gloves, soft grey leather pants, and the soft brown leather bodice. In fact, the only thing not leather was the rich, red silky shirt that was under the bodice and the white silk scarf wrapped around her neck.

Once she was presentable she headed out of the castle, seeking out someone to train with. She did want to work on her archery…

She sent a messenger to track down Dorian so she could talk to him about the letter Mother Giselle had given her, then sought out Sera in the pub. Surprisingly, she wasn't against helping her train, and even suggested she provide moving targets.

How much harm could that be?

She regretted that way of thinking not too long into their run. Sera was causing a stir, as she had decided it would be lovely to move around like a mad woman—though at least she had enough of a mind to do so on the rooftops where there weren't people and the battlements where there were no _longer_ people since they'd all cleared out for the sake of safety.

A crowd was gathering to watch them, however, though they stayed a safe distance away. Sera laughed like a mad woman as she made a sharp turn left, the arrow sailing through the air where the teacup in her hand-one of Amariel's targets—had been a moment earlier to strike the wall. A sound of frustration ripped through Amariel.

"Come on, you have to predict what I'll do—moving target and all," Sera taunted.

"You're insane—you admit to it—and you want me to predict _you_?" Amariel asked agitatedly. "I don't want to accidentally put an arrow in your face!"

"That's why I'm moving, silly!"

"That's _not_ reassuring."

"You agreed!"

"And I'm starting to regret it!" Amariel retorted, letting another arrow sail through the air towards the target but firing another right after it on Sera's opposite side. She was rewarded with the shattering of porcelain as the arrow smashed its target, and Sera dropped down from the battlements onto the roof of the armory.

"Do I dare ask what's going on here?" came Dorian's voice behind her, and Amariel paused, turning to look at him though her bow was still drawn.

"I'm…well…Sera talked me into doing my archery training her way, using some junk she has as targets. Now I'm trying to hit the targets without killing her," Amariel sighed. "Though at this rate I might purposely hit her."

"I heard that!" Sera shouted indignantly.

"Well you're definitely amusing our guests," Dorian mused, nodding pointedly in the direction of Alistair and Hawke, who were both standing on the safe part of the battlements watching the proceedings. "Though I can't say your dear Commander will be pleased your exercise has disrupted his watch."

"Your Cully-Wully, your Cullen-Wull—" Sera started to taunt, placing a little teacup on top of her head like it was a dainty hat.

 _THWACK!_

"Hey!" Sera shouted angrily amidst the shattering of porcelain.

"You should have been ready," Amariel replied sweetly, lowering her bow while Sera glared at her, the arrow embedded in the wall behind her just above Sera's head. Amariel turned her attention back to Dorian.

"Dorian, there's a letter you need to see…" she said carefully.

"A _letter_? Is it a _naughty_ letter? A humorous proposal from some Antivan Dowager?" Dorian said slyly.

"Not quite. It's from your father."

The smile vanished almost immediately. "From my father…I see. And what does Magister Halward want, pray tell?"

"A meeting."

"Show me this letter."

Amariel pulled the letter out of glove where she'd stashed it before leaving her room, handing it to him before lining up another shot on Sera, giving him time to read it. Sera tensed, pulling out another teacup and getting ready to throw it in the air. She tossed the teacup straight up, then tossed a teapot lid to the right, and something larger, white, and fluffy to the left. Three arrows let loose in rapid succession later, the teacup and the teapot lid were shattered, and the white fluffy thing was pinned to the battlement wall by an arrow.

"Is that a stuffed nug?" Amariel asked incredulously.

"Yeah, so what? It's mine, it's rubbish, and I don't want it," Sera said indifferently.

"Well, don't leave it there!"

"Fine—you're no fun."

"No, I just don't want to end up traumatizing some poor kid who manages to spot it!" Amariel retorted.

"What in Andraste's name is going on here?" a new voice interrupted, and Amariel blushed, turning to find Cullen looking upon the scene with bemusement while Sera pulled the arrow out to free the stuffed nug up on the armory roof. Sera paused when she heard Cullen's voice, and she dropped the arrow and the stuffed nug.

"Oh shite, caught! She did it!" Sera shouted, pointing at Amariel and then running off with a maniacal laugh.

"Sera!" Amariel shouted angrily at her, but the elven woman was already gone. Amariel let out a huff, turning back to Cullen with a sheepish smile. "We were just getting in some target practice. Sera wanted to make it more difficult and we may have gotten a little carried away."

Cullen softened at her explanation. "Well…just try to keep control of Sera next time—and try not to disrupt the guards on duty, either," he relented.

They were interrupted by an outburst from Dorian, who had paced closer to the battlements where Hawke and Alistair were standing.

"I know my son? What my father knows of me would barely fill a thimble!" Dorian fumed, and Amariel sighed, making her way over to him after giving Cullen a small apologetic smile in parting. "This is so typical. I'm willing to bet this _retainer_ is a henchmen, hired to knock me on the head and drag me back to Tevinter!"

"That would be hard to do while I stood there," Amariel said seriously, brow furrowed in concern at the thought.

"He expects me to travel with Mother Giselle, although Maker knows why he'd think I would," Dorian scoffed. He was silent for a moment, weighing his options. "Let's meet this so called family retainer," he finally decided.

"If it's a trap, we escape and kill everyone! You're good at that!" Dorian stated, and Amariel frowned.

"You act as if that's all I ever do," Amariel huffed, but Dorian just ignored her and kept speaking.

"If it's not, I send the man back to my father with the message that he can stick his alarm in his wit's end."

Amariel leaned against the battlement wall, studying Dorian for a moment. "There seems to be bad blood between you and your family."

Dorian actually laughed at that. "Interesting turn of phrase…but you're correct. They don't care for my choices, nor I for theirs."

"Because you wouldn't get married? Because you left?"

"That too."

"I think you should meet with this retainer…find out what your family wants," Amariel said cautiously.

"I didn't ask what _you_ thought, did I?" Dorian said instantly and sharply, and Amariel was taken aback, her shock apparently evident on her face. Dorian immediately looked ashamed. "That…was unworthy, I apologize. There'd be no harm in hearing what this man of my father's has to say. If I don't like it, however, I want to leave."

Amariel did her best to shake off her friend's harsh words a few moments ago. "Your parents are reaching out to you…doesn't that mean something?"

"Only that they're trying to choke me!" Dorian said in frustration before he let out a sigh. "Don't mind me…let's see what comes of this."

"That works for me."

"I wonder how much my father paid this man to wait around just in case I showed. We'll find out soon enough."

Amariel nodded. "You and I can ride to Redcliffe to meet the retainer while the others go ahead to the Western Redoubt, and after we meet with him we'll catch up with the rest of our group—how does that sound?"

Dorian gave a theatrical bow. "Just lead the way Inquisitor. If you need me, I'll be scheming my revenge if this is some ambush or kidnapping attempt."


	7. Chapter 7: Dear Friends

_**Sorry this took so long guys, there was some original content I was trying to figure out how to piece together, plus it was a really crazy week. But I'm back on the horse now lol**_

 _ **And the next chapter should be, like, 90% original content hehehehehe I can't wait :D**_

 _ **PLEASE Review, you guys make me so happy when you review and I love those of you that have reviewed so far sooooooo much!**_

 _ **Enjoy!**_

* * *

After everyone received their much needed rest from their travels, Amariel called the war council the next day, all of her injuries treated and feeling like they'd already lingered in Skyhold too long. What Alistair had told them about was a pressing issue, and it was best that they all get out on the road as soon as possible. And, since they were going to be splitting their party for the trip down, Amariel also invited Alistair and Hawke to come so they would know what was going on.

Still, walking in Amariel had to curse under her breath, noting all the markers and knowing they'd only be removing three. "Sweet Maker, they're multiplying like nugs," she muttered. She thought she saw Alistair hiding a smile at her side…

The next thing she noticed was the hefty stack of papers Josephine was keeping with her, giving it the evil eye. " _Please_ , Josehpine, don't tell me I have to read that…" she said distastefully while Alistair and Leliana exchanged a quick but friendly hello behind her.

"This would be the terms of our agreements with the Merchant Princes, or a duplicate, if you wish to review it. I'd put aside three days and two dozen candles."

"I'll…pass, and just trust that you straightened everything out," Amariel said warily, and Josephine smiled.

"I assumed as much, though it will be on hand if it's ever needed."

"The mages from Hasmal arrived two days ago, and as soon as the Circle is stable, the other Templars will join us as well," Cullen reported, hand casually upon his sword as always.

"And speaking of mages and Templars, my people located Rhys and Evangeline," Leliana stated, handing Amariel a sealed scroll. Amariel broke the seal, skimming through the letter from Rhys while Leliana summarized. "As you know they _were_ being held captive by the Red Templars, though my people were able to get them to safety. As soon as they've recovered from their wounds they are willing to serve the Inquisition, though they won't be coming to Skyhold so there are no tensions with our rebel mage allies."

Leliana finished speaking, though Amariel smiled slightly when she noticed something scrawled in a different hand at the bottom.

 _I asked you not to do this. I was upset until it saved them. This is good._

"Leliana, I do believe someone managed to slip by you," Amariel mused, surprising Leliana. "But since it's Cole I guess I'm not so surprised…Still, I think I'd like to talk to Cole before assigning them anywhere—he's upset enough I sought them out despite his request not to, I'd rather check in with him first on this."

"I have moved some of my agents into Caer Bronach—at the moment, the villagers prefer us to the bandits, and it is an excellent waypoint from Ferelden to Orlais. We can make it a rendezvous point for our messengers carrying sensitive information from either country. You're familiar with the caves underneath Crestwood—they'll run for miles and if we excavate some passages, our agents could easily enter and exit the keep without being seen," Leliana added, going right into what still needed to be done.

"We've already set up a better road network for our soldiers—I'm all for providing one for your agents as well, Leliana," Amariel told her. Josephine stepped forward, claiming Amariel's attention.

"This was to be expected—In the wake of so many important deaths and the rise of the Inquisition, several noble houses are attempting to spur their fortunes by crafting an alliance of their own. For now, they seem mired in arguments of seniority. It will be a long time before any of them threaten our standing, but it would also be best to deal with this now, before it becomes a bigger problem later. I suggest someone be offered as an ambassador of the Herald, not the Inquisition. If only to let them know, in a nonthreatening way, that we are watching."

Leliana sighed. "Let them squabble on their own—poking them at this point is wasted energy."

"I disagree—Josephine's right, this could become an issue further down the road. I say invite them to observe our soldiers training, to show that we are not heretical outlaws," Cullen chipped in.

Amariel shook her head. "No, I agree with Josephine on this one—send an ambassador. We should keep an eye on this—I'll leave the intimidation to the people itching to start trouble with us."

"And that request of Sera's, about the battalion…it's actually not half as insane as she usually sounds," Cullen added. "The nobles have caused several displacements of the refugees to destabilize land claims, and their bickering is causing political chaos in the area. It would be easy to divert troops through Verchiel—I can easily arrange for a retinue of our best to make an impression."

"The Commander agreeing with a plan of Sera's—the world really is coming to an end, isn't it?" Amariel asked with a half smile, getting a chuckle from Cullen. "I'll tell Sera—I'm sure she'll be pleased to hear we're acting on her advice again."

Amariel straightened. "And now for the fun part—us riding out for the Western Approach. Commander, you said we have a foothold there already—do you mind pointing out where on the map our men are stationed?"

Cullen leaned forward, pointing to the spot on the table. "Here, on the outskirts of the desert. Scout Harding and her men haven't been able to get much farther than that—the place is crawling with Venatori."

"Well doesn't that sound joyous," Amariel muttered before she looked to Alistair and Hawke with a small, apologetic look. "I'm afraid you'll have to go ahead with Blackwall and Cole—Dorian and I are going to Redcliffe to deal with something that's come up first. We'll meet you there afterwards."

Alistair waved a hand dismissively. "It's all right, we can handle ourselves. Besides, I heard what you two are doing—it's best that's dealt with now, I believe."

Amariel was surprised, but she gave him a grateful smile. "Thank you, Alistair." She looked back at her advisors. "Dorian and I will take the faster steeds so that we can cover more ground—hopefully we won't delay our investigation into the Approach too much. Who knows, maybe we'll even cross paths with those Venatori agents that need handling near Redcliffe."

"The best of luck, Inquisitor," Josephine stated.

"If it's just you and Dorian, be sure you don't antagonize the dragon down there—five encounters with dragons is already enough," Cullen commented as they all started to move towards the door. Amariel frowned, counting in her head before she realized someone told him about the dragon at the storm coast. She folded her arms over her chest.

"All right, who ratted so I can kill them?" Amariel asked. Cullen gave her a broad, full smile that surprised everyone else there.

"I'm not going to give away my informant. I'd like to know when you try taking a keep four to…what was it? Twenty-seven?" Cullen asked, opening the door for her and letting her through.

"It was Dorian, wasn't it?"

"You'll get nothing out of me, Inquisitor."

Amariel sighed. "Fine…I have an entire trip to interrogate Dorian, anyway." She turned her attention back to Hawke and Alistair, who'd fallen into step behind her. "I hope _your_ trip goes smoothly. And if Cole starts…well, being Cole, you just need to tell him he's made you uncomfortable and you don't want to talk about it and he'll back off."

"What _is_ Cole, exactly? You've hinted he's not human, but…you've given nothing to clarify _what_ he is," Alistair asked.

Cullen sighed. "We're not sure, which is why some of us aren't entirely comfortable having him around. Why the Inquisition is keeping him around despite the clear risks is beyond me."

"Because, Cullen, he's a spirit of _compassion_ —one of the rarest good spirits out there, as if he wasn't rare enough being able to manifest as human—and I'm not going to kick Compassion out of Skyhold," Amariel chided him gently.

Cullen paused, mulling that over. "That…changes things, actually…I take back my comments then. Though he still causes mischief like Sera. Did you hear about all the daggers he stole and hid in a barrel?"

Amariel smiled. "He took them off people's belts and put them in the barrel so they couldn't be drawn in the heat of an argument—he was preventing people hurting one another."

They started down the stairs, Amariel noting the steeds that were lined up and ready to go including her new Brecilian Sure-Foot hart, Blackwall, Cole, and Dorian ready to leave. "What about the stolen cheese and mint? The peeled plums on the windowsills? The blasted turnips in the fire that made the place stink for a week?" Cullen asked curiously, probably wondering if she had insight into those instances too.

"The turnips smelled like a home cooked meal a soldier's mother used to make, so he felt like he was at home before he died. The plums attracted flies to feed spiders, so the spiders would make the spiderwebs the surgeons need for treatments of wounds. As for the cheese and mint…well, the cheese attracts the mice, that draws the cats, so the cats smell the mint, so the cats will dance and play, to amuse the cook so she's happy enough to forget her pain of the memories of Haven so she's not so angry so that the kitchen hands don't get yelled at or beat," Amariel explained patiently.

"It appears I don't give him enough credit. I may owe Cole an apology…"

Amariel placed a gentle hand on his forearm. "I can see why it wouldn't make sense—it took a while for me to make those connections myself listening to what people were saying around Skyhold." She pulled away, approaching her hart while Alistair and Hawke mounted their own borrowed steeds. Amariel gently rubbed the hart's neck, appreciating how the elegant creature was much more comfortable to sit on than the larger horses. "Anyway, we need to be heading out. I'll keep in contact as usual, I promise."

Cullen smiled again at her as she gathered the reins. "So you say—I'll trust your companions to keep you in line the best they can."

"You act like all I ever do is find or cause trouble, Commander," Amariel said with a smirk.

"Have you noticed how many people you kill when you leave Skyhold?" Dorian asked, leaning forward nonchalantly on his horse. "You just walk down the road and find every possible kind of agent and creature trying to kill us and don't even bother trying to be stealthy—most of the time—you go right for the jugular! If you're going to kill a lot, at least learn the art of finesse for it!"

Amariel sighed, shaking her head at Cullen. "Now look what you've started—I'll be hearing this the entire way to Redcliffe."

"And yet I find I don't regret making the comment," Cullen said smugly as he stepped back. "Safe travels, Inquisitor."

Amariel wheeled the hart around, speaking as she did so. "Take care, Commander—I'll send word as soon as I have something to report."

With that, she took the lead of their group and they all thundered off, the sound of hooves echoing back towards Skyhold as they raced out the gate and across the bridge. Cullen watched them disappear, knowing that at a certain point past the mountains the six would split off and Amariel and Dorian would be traveling alone.

He tried not to think of why the thought made him jealous.

"I'll be waiting…be safe," Cullen murmured to the empty air before he turned his back on the gate to get back to work.

* * *

Dorian was quiet during their ride to the Western Approach from Redcliffe. As much as Amariel understood Dorian needed time and space after the…contentious discussion with his father—who had decided to show up instead of the retainer—she did hope that their entire trip wasn't like this. Dorian was one of the few people who truly put her at ease, and it bothered her to see him so gloomy.

Thankfully, he spoke on the first night they set up camp, waiting until the fire was crackling and there was a companionable silence between them before he suddenly started to speak.

"He says we're alike…too much pride. Once I would have been overjoyed to say that, but now…I'm not certain. I don't know if I can forgive him."

Amariel had only been in the tavern for the initial part of the conversation, the part that included their fight and calming Dorian down enough to try and sit down to talk with his father. She'd left to give them privacy after that, though, after what she'd heard…

 _I prefer the company of men—my father disapproves._

 _Allow me to say: women are fine creatures. You, for instance, are amazing above all others. They're just…not for me._

He _taught me to hate blood magic. "The resort of a weak mind." Those are_ his _words._

 _You tried to…_ change _me!_

"He tried to change you?" Amariel ventured to ask quietly. Dorian continued to stare into the flames in silence before he started his explanation.

"Out of desperation. I wouldn't put on a show, marry the girl, keep everything unsavory private and locked away. Selfish, I suppose, not to want to spend my entire life screaming on the inside. He was going to do a blood ritual…alter my mind, make me… _acceptable_. I found out…and I left."

Amariel blinked in surprise. "Can blood magic actually do that?"

"Maybe. It could also have left me a drooling vegetable. It crushed me to think he found that absurd risk preferable to scandal. Part of me has always hoped he didn't really want to go through with it. If he had, I can't even imagine the person I would be now…I wouldn't like that Dorian."

"I wouldn't either…I like my Dorian just the way he is," Amariel said softly before she tried to catch his gaze. "Are you all right?"

"No, not really," Dorian admitted, finally meeting her gaze. "Thank you for brining me out there. It wasn't what I expected, but…it was something. Maker knows what you must think of me now, after that whole display…"

He looked so sad in that moment it pulled at Amariel's heartstrings, and she tried to take a different turn on the conversation. "I think you led me on, actually."

Dorian looked stupefied for a moment before he caught on. "Ah, the flirting. You're a remarkable woman, Amariel—I mean that in the best way. In another life…" Dorian shook his head. "I meant no offense. I'll desist, if you prefer."

Amariel flashed a warm smile at him. "Desist?" she asked incredulously before she laid her head on his shoulder, switching to a more seductive voice. "Don't you dare."

She felt victory when Dorian laughed—and it wasn't forced. "I stand so instructed! Though, I don't know if Cullen would like an increase of the flirting, as I feel your newfound knowledge of me may bring."

Now Amariel was thrown by the switch of topic. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't you play coy with me—there's no one else around, and I am the only person who knows, Amariel, the extent those feelings of yours go when it comes to the Commander. You're free to speak here—there's no one to overhear, no one to judge."

"I don't know what you want me to say," she said with a blush.

"Will you be bringing it anywhere? It's hard to miss the growing chemistry between the two of you—the letters, the time spent together whenever you get the chance, the conversations about anything—anything regarding the Inquisition so far as I'm aware, the wistful looks, touches that mean a little more, stolen glances, words with double meanings…you're both like the beginning of some sappy romance novel!" Dorian exclaimed, and Amariel groaned, burying her face in his shoulder. "Not that it's a bad thing—I find it adorable. Though honestly, do you plan on bringing it anywhere?"

"I…I don't know, Dorian. First of all, I'm not sure if he wants to go there, if he feels the same. Then there's the fact I'm the Inquisitor and he's my Commander…we're in the middle of a war…and I'm scared of losing him as it is," Amariel finished quietly.

"Ah…so Redcliffe is still haunting you."

"How can it not? I know it's been a while, and it was a future we're working to prevent…but it was _real_ , Dorian, it happened, we lived through it…and sometimes…I can't shake the image. It terrifies me."

"Believe me, I know it bothers you—I've seen it," Dorian started. "But that shouldn't stop you from living _now_. It doesn't when you're with anyone else."

Amariel shook his head. "No, it doesn't…just…sometimes when it's mentioned, or when I look at him all I can think about is that stupid cell, and it hurts all over again. What if I let myself care for him, and I lose him?"

"Amariel, you're blind if you think you don't already care for him," Dorian chided her. "The only thing you're doing is keeping yourself from happiness—you shouldn't do that to yourself, even if we are in the middle of a war. It's not fair to you."

Amariel pulled her knees towards herself, folding her arms on top of her knees and resting her head against her arms, gazing over at him. "When did you get so…wise?"

Dorian gave her a dazzling smile. "When I had a friend who needed it. Just don't tell Varric, or he'll probably change my nickname to something other than Sparkles, and it probably won't be an improvement."

Amariel laughed softly. "I suppose not…thank you, Dorian. You're a good friend."

"Thank you."

"Except when you rat me out to Cullen."

Dorian laughed. "I did no such thing!"

"Sure, Dorian, whatever you say."

* * *

"Inquisitor! Welcome to the Western Approach," Scout Harding said as Amariel and Dorian arrived at the camp they were due to rendezvous with the others at. Amariel got off of her hart, giving it a reassuring pat on the neck and leading it over to the spring the camp was set up next to as Scout Harding launched into her report. Alistair, Hawke, Blackwall, and Cole all approached as Harding spoke, anticipating to set out as soon as Amariel and Dorian were briefed. "We've sighted Warden activity to the west, but no one's been close enough to tell what they're doing. Between the sandstorms and the vicious wildlife, we haven't made it far out here. One of my men got too close to a poison hot spring and gave me a _slightly_ delirious report of a high dragon flying overhead. In short, this might just be the worst place in the entire world. Be careful out there."

"Well, it's good to know what I'm in for," Amariel told Harding with a smile.

"Sorry I don't have more for you," Harding said sincerely. "We intercepted a Venatori messenger and… _persuaded_ him to give up the orders he was carrying. This entire place…something just doesn't feel right. Be careful."

Amariel nodded to dismiss the woman, turning back to the rest of the group. "Well, should we head out?"

"Already run into trouble, have you?" Alistair asked, tapping his cheek to indicate he was referring to the cut on her cheek. Amariel chuckled.

"Ah, yes, that would have been the assassins. Or wasit the Venatori? I can't remember. You should have seen the claw marks from the bear before Dorian healed them—the thing came out of nowhere. But I'm alert and ready for action now—we might want to start our search," Amariel said, starting forward on the path that led out of the camp.

"You act like that's as common as finding a leaf on a tree," Blackwall said with a sigh.

"With everything that happens to us, is that so surprising? It takes a dragon flying over our heads to surprise her," Dorian quipped.

"Oh? Speaking to the filthy common folk now, are we?"

"Sweet Maker, you're right! What was I thinking?" Dorian gasped as if he'd just committed some grievous scandal.

"This is going to be my whole day," Amariel sighed, Alistair walking just a step behind her on her left while Cole swiftly and quietly made his way to her other side. Hawke had taken to the rear, her bow drawn and ready for trouble. Amariel put her arm around the spirit boy. "How are you holding up, Cole?"

"Dorian is hurting, hiding…can I help him?" Cole asked her. Amariel hesitated, then shook her head.

"Dorian needs some space to cope right now, Cole, bringing it up will only make it hurt more," Amariel told him gently. "When it comes to family…people prefer that it's not brought up in front of other people," Amariel tried to explain.

"Oh…" Cole said innocently, then he turned to Alistair, which surprised Amariel. "Then, I'm sorry I tried to bring up the hurt earlier—I didn't know helping then would cause more hurting."

Alistair winced, shifting uncomfortably like he was suffering from a sudden growing pain. "Apology accepted. I get that you were just trying to be helpful."

Cole was silent for a few moments, then spoke to Alistair again. "I'm glad she helps you with the hurts. I'm sorry not being around her only adds to the hurt."

"I will when this is over…that's comfort enough for now."

Deciding to guide Cole to a different subject matter for once to give their companions some relief, Amariel decided to sate a curiosity she'd had for a while. "What about me, Cole? I'm curious to know what you read from me."

Cole was silent for a few moments, probably listening. "You're too bright. Like counting birds against the sun. The mark makes you more. But past it...the weight of all on you. All the hopes you carry, fears you fight. You are theirs. Then there's the hurt, kept closely guarded since Redcliffe. You keep it hidden, secret, so no one else feels that burden even though it gets heavier and heavier. Nightmares, pain, all of it in secret. Yet you're still so bright…" Cole looked at her, the intensity of his gaze surprising her. "It must be very hard. I hope I help."

The sincerity of his tone caused Amariel to melt slightly, and she smiled at him, squeezing him into a brief hug. "It does help to be around you Cole, thank you. I find your…innocence and eagerness to help refreshing."

Amariel's hand sparked to life, and she swiftly withdrew her arm from around Cole's shoulders, reaching for her daggers. Her sparking hand had instantly put her usual companions on guard, though the four reaching for their weapons was what caused Alistair to draw his sword and Hawke to tense in anticipation.

"There's a rift nearby," Amariel said for Alistair and Hawke's benefit.

Sure enough, up ahead and around a corner there was a rift in the air, one that even now spewed forth—to Amariel's disdain and possibly her comrades' as well—at least two rage demons and two or three lesser terrors.

"Great, just what I wanted," Amariel grumbled under her breath as she pulled out her dual blades, falling into a battle-ready stance.

Hawke wasted no time in emptying a few arrows into the lesser demons, just as Dorian was swift to slow the rage demons with some ice magic. Amariel rushed the lesser demons first, noting that Alistair fell into a more protective role, staying close enough to her he could shield her from danger if he needed to—a role he also seemed…comfortable with.

She'd have to ask him about it later.

Meanwhile, Cole and Blackwall charged the rage demons, working together to keep them off of Dorian. Blackwall fell into the usual protective charge he played for Amariel around Dorian, and Cole danced around the rage demons, at the side of one in one moment and then disappearing to reappear beside the other in the next.

While Alistair shielded her from a dangerous swipe of a lesser demon's clawed hand, Amariel slipped around to stand with her back pressed flush to his, where she caught the arm of a second lesser demon that had been sneaking up behind him, slicing off the arm with a well-practiced swipe of both blades. It reared back with a shriek, and Amariel took the chance to leap forward, digging her daggers deep into its chest and watching as it dissolved below her. Amariel pushed herself back to her feet, looking over her shoulder to see Alistair pulling his sword from the ground, a pile of smoking ash where a lesser demon had been. Cole and Blackwall had their hands full with one of the rage demons, Hawke was pumping arrows into a regular demon who had come through the rift—

"Fasta vass!"

While everyone had been dealing with their own demons, Dorian had apparently been faced with a rage demon alone. As Amariel looked his way, he was on the ground, a burn across his face while using the blade end of his staff to keep the burning creature at bay.

"You better not be dead, mage!" Blackwall shouted, though he was busy fighting the rage demon that had him stalwart with shield firmly between him and the creature, Cole working furiously to keep the rage demon from taking him out.

"Dorian!" Amariel shouted, breaking away from Alistiar and racing towards her fallen friend. The only thing keeping Dorian from being burned to a crisp by the rage demon was the staff Amariel had made for him with Harritt.

She crossed the distance swiftly, coming up behind the rage demon and leaping onto its back, embedding both blades into its upper back and keeping her feet above the molten lava that made up its lower body. The demon arched its back, roaring in fury as her blades slid slightly down its back from supporting all her body weight.

 _Maybe this wasn't the best idea_ , she found herself thinking, as now she was stuck on its back, left to trying to dig the blades deeper in to do more damage and kill it and trying to keep from falling into the lava of its lower body.

Over the demon's shoulder, Amariel saw Dorian put distance between himself and the demon, immediately getting to his feet with fire in his eyes.

"Amariel," he called, and Amariel needed no more direction. She got a firm grasp on her daggers, pulling them out of the demon's back the same moment she kicked off, flipping in the air to land on her feet a safe distance away. Dorian seemed to gather his power, wielding his staff with deadly efficiency as he twirled it high in the air, a wave of deadly ice flowing from the staff and engulfing the demon. It trudged forward, still trying to get to Dorian even as it slowly froze, Dorian avoiding the creature simply with a few steps backwards.

Once it had frozen solid, Amariel jumped forward once more to shove her blades through the frozen middle of the creature, watching the chunks fall to the ground. She looked around once more, watching as one of Cole's blades managed to get the demon through the heart and kill it, while the demon Hawke had been pumping arrows through finally fell by Alistair's blade. Amariel relaxed, turning to the rift and shoving her hand towards it, feeling the usual strange sensation of power gathering, wind wiping around her until it reached its climax, the point where Amariel knew that it would seal, and she jerked her hand away, the usual boom and pulse through the air signaling its end as the green tear in the air disappeared.

As soon as the danger was gone, Amariel was by Dorian's side. "Are you all right? How did that demon get the jump on you?" she asked in concern, sharp eyes studying the burn on his face even as Dorian absentmindedly healed it.

"I'd already killed one of the two demons—that one came out of the rift and snuck up on me," Dorian grumbled.

"Well…be careful. I don't know what I'd do without my favorite mage," Amariel said in an attempt to lighten the mood, though she made sure her eyes communicated that she was also serious.

"The Inquisition would crumble—I'm practically _carrying_ your organization!" Dorian exclaimed with a wide grin, though the look in _his_ eyes let Amariel know that yes, he understood she was also serious.

"The horror," Amariel joked, turning away and approaching Alistair, who had been studying her since their skirmish ended.

"So…that's how you do it, then? Fight a few demons, wave a sparkling hand, and _poof_ —stitched up rift?" Alistair asked, apparently defaulting to humor to deal with the strange and unnatural.

"Pretty much. I can't tell you anything other than that myself, other than it works," Amariel said with a shrug. "You know, I can't help but notice that you fell into the role of protecting the crazy rogue rather quickly and easily…"

Alistair gave her a small smile. "I'm used to it—I have a similar role when I fight next to my wife—I must say, you and Aurora…are very alike," he mused.

Amariel flushed at what she took as a compliment. She reminded Alistair of the Hero of Ferelden?

"Thank you, Alistair. It's an honor to be fighting beside you and Hawke," Amariel told him sincerely. Alistair's smile grew slightly.

"Well, maybe when all this is over we can throw a Heroes of the World party, see how many of the people's legends we can get in one place." Effortlessly, Alistair wiped his blade clean and put it back in its sheath. "Shall we continue?"

* * *

They made their way across canyon and desert until the daylight hours disappeared and darkness began to fall, cooling the desert. Considering the warning Scout Harding had given them when they arrived, it was unanimously agreed that the group not travel at night and settle down for camp while there was still some light to get set up. Now they all sat around the fire, eating a stew with a meat Amariel had refused to share what it was—though Alistair overheard Amariel tell Hawke it was Fennec, and she didn't want the others knowing since Dorian and Cole adored the creatures—that actually didn't taste that bad.

It was far better than the meals Alistair had managed to scrape together while he was in Crestwood.

It was nice, the air of comradery that everyone had managed to settle into even though it was their first night all together. It probably helped that Amariel had decided to sit with Hawke and Alistiar while Cole, Dorian, and Blackwall went about conversation as normal.

Though most of it was awkward conversation with Cole or bickering.

"Cole, you should be careful dancing around with those daggers when I'm throwing fire," Dorian was chiding Cole as he put up his bowl.

"It won't hurt me—it's friendly fire!" Cole said innocently, enough so it gave Alistair a chill.

Only because he'd seen the young man kill a few demons without flinching not a few hours ago.

Dorian grimaced. "That doesn't always mean what you think it does…"

Amariel sighed. "Just another thing to explain…"

"If I may ask, where did you find this Cole?" Hawke asked Amariel quietly.

"He found us—when Corypheus brought the Red Templars to attack Haven, Cole tried to come and warn us. Unfortunately he arrived the same time Corypheus did, so it wasn't much of a warning…but he's been a valuable ally ever since. And I consider him a friend," Amariel said easily, watching Cole as he played with a mouse he'd recovered from one of the many caves they'd passed on their way here, the furry creature running along his fingers.

"And he's…"

"A spirit of compassion. They're rare enough as it is, and damn hard to twist into a demon if our Fade expert Solas is to be believed. But the fact that he's able to manifest as human—that he's not possessing anyone—is amazing. He's definitely unique."

Blackwall spoke to Dorian then, over on the other log.

"Corypheus. One of yours, isn't he?" Blackwall asked. Dorian was instantly annoyed, his biting return coming almost instantly and amusing Alistair.

"One of mine? Like a _pet_? Like a giant darkspawn hamster with aspirations of godhood?" Beside Alister, Amariel snorted. "'Dorian, why can't you look after your little friends? Corypheus peed on the carpet again!' In this analogy, the carpet is _Haven_ ," Dorian said acidly, Amariel trying and miserably failing to hide a laugh.

"Is he or is he not a Tevinter Magister?" Blackwall deadpanned. Dorian made one last jab.

"Meaning 'the source of everything bad and evil in the world'? They are the same, yes?" Dorian bit.

"Certainly feels that way at times," Blackwall muttered. Dorian fumed internally for several long minutes, obviously trying not to continue the argument and leave it where it was.

"You have something to say, mage?" Blackwall eventually huffed, unable to stand his steaming silence.

"If I had something to say, I'd say it," Dorian grit out.

"That's it? I'd expect more from a man who can't stop talking about how clever he is."

"And I'd expect no less from a brutish thug."

"Better that than a pompous brat."

"All right…" Amariel grunted as she leaned forward to put her bowl away. "I've said it before and I'll say it again: If we're going to fight at each other's side, we need to get _along_."

"Tell that to mister barely concealed envy issues!" Dorian complained.

"You two are such men," Amariel said slyly as if the matter had just been brought to question, eyebrow arched.

"Well, I'm a man," Blackwall said as he straightened up, shooting Dorian a nasty look.

"Best pound your chest so nobody doubts," Dorian scoffed.

"Boys," Amariel said sharply. "if you don't behave I'll put Cole in charge when I head to bed."

Blackwall grimaced. "Yes, ma'am."

Amariel sighed. "I'm sorry about…them," she told Hawke and Alistair. Alistair was smiling at her, amused by the scene.

"Oh, it's no problem at all, actually. It serves some entertainment. That would be me and Morrigan during the Blight," he admitted.

"You should have heard some of the arguments Fenris and Anders got into," Hawke added, though her smile faded slightly at the mention of Anders.

That was a subject best left alone…

"I'm sure you both have some interesting stories," Amariel noted.

"Yes, well…nothing no one hasn't already heard," Hawke returned.

"I beg to differ. Maker knows I've been finding out how much the truth can be warped as its passed on through other people." As she spoke, Amariel turned over her hand, gently tracing along the line of a faintly glowing green mark.

"Will you be participating in the story telling too, or will you be leaving Hawke and I to scramble for something interesting to say?" Alistair asked suspiciously. Amariel closed her hand, letting it drop away and giving him a smile.

"Oh, I'll join in, of course—and I'm sure the others will have plenty of comments. At least I know Dorian will."

"You know me so well," Dorian chuckled, coming closer to join their little group.

"Well then, what poor sod is going first?" Hawke asked, looking to Alistair. He quickly found that everyone else was now looking at him.

"What? Me? Why do I have to be first?" Alistair asked.

"I don't know, maybe because you have the stories from the farthest back, you have the stories from the Fifth Blight, which is arguably the most significant event out of all of us," Amariel suggested.

"I don't know, a hole in the sky that leads to the Fade is pretty significant," Dorian said leadingly.

"Well, I still say you go first," Hawke said, slapping Alistair on the back. He sighed.

"Fine, fine, I see how it is…"

* * *

They all traded stories for what felt like hours, back and forth with tales that seemed to only grow more absurd as time passed. Subconsciously they all avoided the grim and morbid stories they had, keeping those to themselves and focusing on the happy, the humorous, and the exciting. Eventually, they all started to break away for their rest, Amariel surprisingly being the first as she claimed exhaustion from the ride to the Western Approach and from the battle earlier. Alistair had agreed to take the watch after Hawke, and now found himself awake, sword implanted in the ground in front of him with one hand resting loosely on the hilt and his other arm resting on his knee, with Cole sitting on the ground beside him in comfortable silence. The boy simply played with his new mouse friend, feeding the creature cheese every now and then. Alistair had already asked why the young man was awake, and had promptly been informed that he didn't sleep and liked to listen to the others dream. As strange as the thought was, Alistair didn't press him on the subject.

They went quite some time without either of them talking, though eventually Cole broke that silence.

"Constantly playing, unending, torturous…I'm sorry you can't find peace from the music. But talking helps?"

Alistair nodded. "Talking or fighting. I can almost ignore it then."

"Can I ask questions, then? Talk, to help block out the music?"

Alistair hesitated, loath of the thought of what Cole would dig up. "It depends on what you want to talk about. Some pains are best left alone."

"It's not that they should be left alone. Some people just don't want to face them, are afraid to face them. I'm not here to cause more pain—I'm here to help, it's what I'm supposed to do," Cole explained.

"Well, in my case, some things are best left buried. I can forget about them that way, and I'd rather not be reminded."

"Cold, stomach clenching, fear, self-loathing…Maker, why _this_ of all things? How could she ask me this? Black hair, another woman, another touch, it's all so _wrong_...but the fear of tomorrow, the pain at the thought of losing her…For her, I will, as much as I hate it."

Alistair winced, hand clenching around his sword hilt on instinct. "Like that," he muttered.

"It's the only reason why you're both alive. If you hadn't done it she would have died killing the archdemon. If you hadn't, you wouldn't have each other now."

"…I know."

"She doesn't think any less of you for it."

Alistair blinked, looking at Cole. "How could you know that? She's not even here."

"I can feel her through her bond with you. Faintly, distant, but still there. Twined together, irreversible—stronger together, inseparable. You're solid and real, what you have." Cole turned those unsettlingly knowledgeable but innocent eyes to meet Alistair's gaze. "She doesn't think any less of you. She hated asking you to, but she couldn't bear the thought of living without you or forcing you to live without her. You have each other, and that's what matters."

Alistair looked away, choosing to cast his gaze to the moon while he processed that. "Thank you, Cole," he eventually managed to say, his voice quiet. The boy seemed to brighten.

"I'm glad I could help."

"Yeah, well, let's just not do this around the others—I'm not too keen on sharing my issues with everyone here," Alistair replied.

Cole was silent, though Alistair assumed he'd understood, casting his gaze back to the world beyond their camp. After a few minutes of their silence, Cole spoke again, voice quieter.

"A blood-tainted helm with a lion's face, dripping liquid crimson, broken promise, broken heart, broken, lifeless body…the glow of red lyrium, dark, dripping cells, a last breath sealing forever the unspoken, gone, dead, never coming back, a hole of yawning nothing, numb but agonizing, Maker, please…"

Alistair stared at Cole, deeply disturbed. Whatever that was, it wasn't from him.

Cole's head tilted towards Alistair, his head bowed low enough he couldn't see if the youth was actually looking at him beneath the brim of his hat. "She's hurting again…will you help her? I'm not quite sure what to do with this one…"

Alistair's brow furrowed, and he looked up to scan the occupants of the camp. As his eyes fell on Amariel, he noted how she tossed occasionally in distress, her hand clenching the blanket desperately. Alistair rose to his feet.

"Can you keep watch while I'm gone, Cole?" he asked, leaving his sword implanted in the ground. Cole nodded, so Alistair quietly made his way back into the camp, trying not to disturb anyone else as he made his way to Amariel's side.

Now that he was closer, Alistair could see that she was coated in a fine sheet of sweat, features twisting in pain or distress, knuckles white as she clenched at her blanket, and her hand was sparking faintly as if the mark was reacting to whatever intense emotions she was experiencing. Crouching down beside her, Alistair laid a gentle hand on her shoulder to shake her awake.

"Amariel," he said just loud enough to rouse her but quiet enough he wouldn't disturb the others. It didn't work the first time, as he distress continued and she remained asleep. "Amariel," he tried again, shaking her a little harder and making his tone a little firmer.

Amariel gasped awake, the sudden movement startling Alistair just enough that he leaned back as her wild, tortured gaze searched her surroundings with a disoriented glaze. Eventually, her eyes found him, and he watched as reality slowly settled back over her. She groaned, laying back down on the ground and covering her face with her arm as Alistair pulled his hand away.

"Do you get them often?" Alistair asked after a few moments.

"What?" she asked, the word muffled by her arm.

"The bad dreams—do you get them often?"

She was silent for a few heartbeats, long enough Alistair started to think she wouldn't answer, before she did grace him with a response.

"Not...all the time...but enough that it's not new."

Alistair nodded slowly, getting to his feet. "I think I have something that can help," he said quietly. Amariel peeked up at him curiously and, after seeing that he was standing and waiting for her, got to her feet and followed him to where they had all of their supplies gathered. He picked up a clean bowl and a water skin, gesturing to the rest of the supplies. "You don't happen to have any Embrium, Crystal Grace, and Dawn Lotus, do you?"

"Um…yes, actually," Amariel murmured, pulling out a bag amidst the collection they had and rifling through until she found the requested herbs. Alistair took them from her, making his way to the fire to start heating up the water he'd poured into the bowl while he started on the herbs.

"Wardens tend to get nasty dreams, especially during a Blight," Alistair explained while he worked. "Aurora learned this from someone in our little party during the Blight—Morrigan, I'd wager. I never really trusted Morrigan, but she could help when she wanted to. This certainly helps with the dreams, and so far I haven't experienced any negative effects, and neither has Aurora."

"Oh…well, thank you, Alistair," Amariel said softly, watching him for a few moments. To fill the silence, Alistair nodded to her hand, which had been clenched since she'd woken up.

"Does it hurt?"

Amariel glanced down at her clenched fist, though she didn't relax. "Sometimes…usually when it spreads or if its agitated."

"Spreads?"

Amariel sighed, glancing around as if to make sure no one could hear them before dropping her voice to a whisper Alistair could barely hear. "I don't remember how I got this mark—or anything that happened at the Conclave—but apparently the first few days after while I was unconscious, the mark was spreading, and the more it spread the more it, well…it was killing me. When I stabilized the breach, it stopped spreading, for the most part. Every now and then…it spreads a little more, and considering my condition before the breach was stabilized I've concluded the more it spreads, the less time I have."

"It's killing you?" Alistair asked in surprise, suddenly seeing the woman before him in a new light. He took her silence as a yes, concern furrowing his brow. "Do the others know?"

"Not many do...Solas knows since he was the one who treated me while I was unconscious, Cassandra, I'd be disappointed if Leliana didn't know...I'm not sure if Cullen and Josephine know, I'm assuming all of my advisors know. Dorian might have some theories, Cole definitely knows...beyond that, I don't know—I don't think they know."

"And...you're okay with that? With what it's doing to you?"

Amariel shrugged. "I'm...coming to terms with it. It's not like I can do anything about it—Solas already tried to fix it while I was unconscious in those first few days. And I guess I can hold onto some hope that maybe when the rifts and breaches are all closed and everything's back to the way it should be, my mark will stop spreading entirely."

"For your sake, I hope that's not too much of a stretch."

"Thank you."

They continued to sit in silence until Alistair finished, handing the bowl with his concoction over to Amariel. "It doesn't smell or taste pleasant at all, but it works," he warned.

"Oh, I believe you," Amariel said with a small smile before she downed as much of it as she could at once. She made a face of disgust, puckering and holding still for a few moments before it finished going down and she relaxed. "Uhg…not the _worst_ I've ever had but…definitely unpleasant."

Alistair laughed. "It seems remedies are destined to be unpleasant if they work—I guess if you want to spit it back out that's a great indication it's good for you."

Amariel chuckled. "That's one way to look at it." She set the bowl aside, sighing softly and staring into the fire, a flurry of thoughts seeming to dance in her eyes. Alistair let her stew for a while, feeling like she was going to come up with something to say herself soon. "How did you and your wife end up together during a time like the Blight? What was it like?"

"Well that wasn't a question I was expecting," Alistair stated, shifting to a more comfortable position with one leg pulled toward him with an arm resting on his knee while the other leg was stretched out towards the fire.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to, I realize I'm being nosy—perhaps sometimes I'm just a little too curious," Amariel said hastily, backing off from the subject like she'd offended him. Alistair waved a dismissive hand.

"No, it's fine—I'm perfectly content talking about my wife," Alistair assured her, a warm, content smile falling across his face as he began to think of his wife with her fair skin, deep blue eyes, and long golden hair. "Aurora Tabris…neither of us were expecting it, that's for sure. Though there was no denying from the beginning she was gorgeous—and very witty, that's always been something I appreciate in people. I met her just before the battle at Ostagar, right before she went through the Joining for the Wardens. I'm glad she survived. Looking back, I don't know what I would have done without her. Perhaps part of the reason we were close was because of what we both went through together at Ostagar, but after every battle as the days went by…we fell for each other a little at a time. It was terrifying as much as it was perfect, since we didn't know what day would be our last…but it was worth it, for us; every moment. If I had the chance to change anything, I wouldn't…I'd do it all again if it meant keeping her with me."

"The way you talk about her I'm surprised you two aren't still together—where is she in all of this?" she asked gently.

"Oh, there was a discussion, believe me. She left before any of this began. A mission of her own, something…personal," Alistair said with a sigh, gaze fixed on the flames before him as his voice grew quiet. This subject was close to home for him, especially right now. "We Wardens don't live that long. The Calling I spoke of, the real one—before it went crazy—eventually it…kills us. The thing is, when we killed the archdemon…we discovered that may not be as set in stone as we thought. She's searching for a way to end the curse. For us both. Maybe for us all. On the other hand, someone had to look into the rumors about Corypheus. We didn't know what was involved at the time. She was going to stay to help, but we had a lead that couldn't wait. One of us had to go. And when I'm done here, we'll be together again…forever, this time."

"It sounds like you've been happy with her since the Blight," Amariel said with a smile, catching his gaze. Alistair nodded, returning the smile.

"Happier than I ever dreamed possible. She's more than I deserve. And I hope I make her days… _easier_ , as well. She was rebuilding the Wardens in Ferelden while I hunted darkspawn leftover from the Blight. It was hard work for both of us, but we always had each other."

"You're both lucky to have each other."

"You have no idea how true that statement is. I've cherished every day I've had with her, and I'm not about to take advantage of the time we've been given," Alistair said softly. He looked over at Amariel when she didn't immediately answer, noting that she appeared to be lost in thought.

"You look quite pensive over there—do you mind sharing with the rest of the class?" Alistair eventually asked. Amariel blinked back to reality, then gave him an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, Alistair, I got lost in thought…but I did hear what you said. I was just…thinking about what you said, that's all."

"I'm glad I was able to stimulate your train of thought, though I don't think that will help you get your rest if you're more awake now."

Amariel chuckled. "I'm sure I can fall asleep just fine, Alistair."

"Just checking—we have a long day ahead of us, so you probably should head back to bed. We're not _too_ far from the tower, we're at least close enough we should get there sometime tomorrow. Unless we get lost or something, of course."

"Please, don't jinx us," Amariel pled as she rose to her feet.

"I see my reputation has caught up to me—I'm the bearer of bad news and jinxes," Alistair said with a smirk. Amariel rolled her eyes.

"I'll see you in the morning, Alistair."

"Good night, Amariel—and I hope you sleep better this time," Alistair said graciously, turning to resume his post.

"Alistair," Amariel called, gaining his attention once more. She blushed slightly, looking down. "Ah…thank you…for the remedy and talking to me…I needed it."

"It was my pleasure, My Lady. Get some sleep," Alistair told her gently. Amariel gave him a warm smile before complying, and Alistair returned to his spot, resting a hand upon his sword once more. Cole was still sitting on the ground, and now that Alistair had returned he resumed playing with his newfound mouse friend.

"Comforting, bright, his words inspiring, warming. Some peace amid chaos and pain. Someone relatable, someone who understands, a friend, perhaps a closer friend, in time. I hope so…" Cole looked up at Alistair. "She likes you. You helped her feel safe and cared for, like Cullen and Dorian. Thank you, for helping her."

Alistair heaved a sigh, though he did feel touched to hear Amariel was warming up to him so. "Thank you, Cole, though I do think Amariel would like some privacy about what's going on in her head."

Cole nodded. "You're right. She'll dream good dreams about him now—they should stay hers, to help when no one else can."

Despite the fact he was uncomfortable with how freely Cole shared what was in other people's minds, he couldn't help but wonder if the him Amariel was thinking so much of was her Commander.

* * *

Just as Alistair had predicted, the next day was extremely long. The sands seemed to stretch on before Amariel, and they came across many spiders, wild hounds, quillbacks…at one point, Blackwall shouted out a warning of a dragon, and though Amariel could hear it—it's roar announced it was close enough to make her eardrums hurt—she didn't see it, causing the next half hour of their trip to be made with extreme caution. They met a dragon researcher who was the owner of all the random bits of research they kept finding on the bandits that kept attacking them—and Amariel was curious enough she decided to keep her eyes open for the supplies he needed to further his research. They closed four more rifts, and discovered far more bandit and Venatori camps than Amariel cared to come across in her entire life, let alone all in one area. They discovered a logging and quarry site, a rebel mage hideout, and set up two more Inquisition camps—though that was done more so Amariel and the others could get some rest than to get a stronger hold for the Inquisition.

For Andraste's sake, they even took the Griffon Wing Keep when they passed it, deciding not to leave it under Venatori control. She didn't even bother to tell anyone not to tell Cullen about their exerting adventures—she knew it'd get back to him anyway by now.

Though she did find an enchanted amulet on the Venatori overseer she thought might be of use, and pocketed it for later amidst a comment from Alistair that Amariel found useful things in the strangest of places just like Aurora.

By the time they finally—finally—reached the ritual tower they'd been looking for in the first place, Amariel was tired, grouchy, and covered in blood from so many sources in so many places she was pretty sure she'd have to get new armor.

As soon as they came close to the building, Hawke and Alistair broke away from the group to scout the building while the rest of them waiting for their report upon their return. For a while, they were only accompanied by silence and the whistle of sand billowing through the air and against more sand. Finally, Alistair and Hawke returned.

"We saw lights coming from the tower," Alistair said firmly, his expression grim.

"It has to be blood magic. We have to stop them before more people are hurt. You take point. I'll guard your backs," Hawke added, bow firmly in hand. Amariel looked to Alistair, who nodded and took up position beside her as they approached the tower. Eventually, they could hear voices floating towards them.

"…This is wrong!" came someone's frightened voice, distantly even though they'd cried it out.

"Remember your oath: In war, victory, in peace, vigilance, in death…sacrifice," came a new, snobbish sounding voice.

There was a flash of light, and Amariel could hear the roars of a rage demon. Beside her, Amariel saw Alistair's jaw and fist clench, probably in reaction to hearing the Warden's oath abused to justify whatever dark magic was going on at the base of the old tower.

"Good. Now bind it, just as I showed you," that same voice repeated, louder now that they were closer. They crested the stairs to the platform at the base of the tower where the main even was happening in time to see a Warden mage taking his place among several other mages who stood calmly beside demons. On the ground before the rift that hovered in the air like some warped centerpiece was a fresh body of some poor Grey Warden—the sacrifice for whatever had just happened, Amariel would wager.

As they approached, the man standing on a dais before all the other wardens spoke, dressed in fine clothes somewhat similar to what Dorian would wear and with an aura that dripped if regal villainy to Amariel—it also wasn't the first time she'd met a Tevinter playing on the side of evil.

"Inquisitor—what an unexpected pleasure," the man said, affirming that his was the voice she'd heard moments ago directing the dark proceedings. "Lord Livius Erimond of Vyrantium, at your service."

"I'm guessing you're not a Warden," Alistair said in a rather snarky tone of voice. Amariel had been picking up hints that he had sharp wit in him, though she hadn't really seen him use it until now—she was actually glad to see it. It meant she wasn't the only one who would use humor to break the tension, other than Dorian, of course.

"But _you_ are," Livius stated, heaving a sigh as he started to pace, eyeing Alistair. "The one Clarel let slip. And you found the Inquisitor and came to stop me. Shall we see how that goes?"

Amariel's eyes sharpened, and she looked around to the mages, who were passively watching the proceedings as if nothing in the world mattered to them. Not a good sign, but she still had to try. "Wardens, this man is lying to you! He serves an ancient Tevinter Magister who wants to unleash a Blight."

"That's a very serious accusation. Let's see what the Wardens think," Livius said in amusement, turning to the mages. "Wardens, hands up! Hands _down_."

Amariel watched in dread while as soon as Livius gave a command, the Wardens complied obediently and in mindless unison.

"Corypheus has enslaved them," Alistair said through grit teeth, eyes steely and dangerous as he glared at Livius.

"They did this to themselves," Livius chided them. "You see, the Calling had the Wardens terrified. They looked _everywhere_ for help."

"Including Tevinter," Alistair filled in bitterly.

"Yes, and since it was my master who put the Calling into their little heads, we in the Venatori were prepared. I went to Clarel full of sympathy, and together we came up with a plan…" Livius said, eyes sparkling with sadistic glee underneath his refined theatrics and composure. "Raise a demon army, march into the Deep Roads, and kill the Old Gods before they wake."

Amariel relaxed slightly—that was the first good news she'd had all day—in a roundabout way. "Ah, I was wondering when the demon army was going to show up," she mused as if he'd just told her the desert contained sand. She turned to Dorian. "Dorian, don't forget to pay up once this is all taken care of—I won that bet."

Dorian grumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like a Tevinter curse, and it seemed she'd thrown Alistair off with how casually she'd taken what was probably a bombshell for him. Meanwhile, Amariel had in fact been wondering when Corypheus would try to raise the demon army she'd heard of and partially seen in Redcliffe.

Livius was also shocked by her casual reaction to what he had apparently thought had been news that would terrify her. "You _knew_ about it, did you?" he tripped out before he got ahold of himself again, trying to act like it had been part of the plan. "Well then, here you are! Sadly for the Wardens, the binding ritual I taught their mages has a side effect. They're now my master's slaves. This was a test. Once the rest of the Wardens complete the ritual, the army will conquer Thedas."

Amariel and Alistair shared a look, and Amariel could see the storm of concern that was rapidly growing in Alistair's eyes.

"So Corypheus influenced the Wardens and made them do this ritual," Amariel stated, stalling for time and fishing for information as she saw a glint out of the corner of her eye from Hawke's armor as the woman got into position.

Livius laughed loudly. "Made them? _No_! Everything you see here? The blood sacrifices to bind the demons? The Wardens did it of their own free will. Fear is a very good motivator, and they were _very_ afraid. You should have seen Clarel _agonize_ over the decision. Burdens of command I suppose."

"Why would the Wardens try to kill the Old Gods?" Amariel asked, folding her arms over her chest and shifting her weight to her right. Discreetly, Blackwall and Dorian switched places, looking like they were simply pacing and observing what was happening instead of getting into position with Blackwall on her right flank and Dorian right behind her.

"A Blight happens when darkspawn find an Old God and corrupt it into an archdemon. If someone fought through the Deep Roads and killed the Old Gods before they could be corrupted— _poof_! No more Blights, ever. The Wardens sacrifice their lives and save the world. Although I fear history will remember them a little _differently_ now."

"Why would Clarel risk using demons?" Amariel said with a shake of her head, putting her hands on her hips. Cole moved to shadow Alistair, who seemed to realize she was giving silent signals with her seemingly normal mannerisms. She saw Alistair's hand twitch instinctively towards his sword, but he did not draw the weapon.

"Demons need no food, no rest, no healing. Once bound they will never retreat, never question orders. They are the perfect army to fight through the Deep Roads. Or across Orlais, now that they are bound to my master."

"Do you really want to see the world fall to the Blight? What do you get out of this?" Amariel asked accusingly, eyes narrowed as she took a step forward and jabbed a finger at him.

"The Elder One commands the Blight. He is not commanded _by_ it like the mindless darkspawn. The Blight is not unstoppable or uncontrollable. It is simply a tool."

"No, Livius, _you're_ the tool," Dorian said in a flat tone.

"As for me; while the Elder One rules from the Golden City, we, the Venatori, will be the God-Kings here in the world."

Amariel actually laughed at that one, startling a few people with the bitter and dark sound. She was having Redcliffe flashbacks to some degree, and it was only souring her mood even more. "And you think he'll actually give any of you some degree of power in reward for helping him? That he won't keep it to himself as he tears the world apart? I think you just invented a new level of stupidity, Livius. Now…Release the Wardens from the binding and surrender. I won't ask twice."

"No. You won't," Livius sneered. He stepped forward, outreaching a hand while Amariel braced herself for some kind of magical attack, hoping Dorian would shield her before it hit, or at least Alistair or Blackwall.

No jet of magical energy shot towards her, however. Instead, his hand began to spark red as Corypheus' had at Haven, and Amariel's hand suddenly flared in intense pain. She cried out, grasping at her forearm as she doubled over, hand sparking wildly of green.

"Amariel!" she heard both Dorian and Alistair exclaim in deep concern with some notes of fear, though it was Alistair's hand she felt on her shoulder. She bit down on her lip, trying not to scream as the pain started to intensify.

"The Elder One showed me how to deal with you, in the event you were foolish enough to intervene again," Livius sneered, and Amariel sank to her knees, a few gasps of pain getting past her defenses as it started to spark more, the pain increasing. Now she felt both of Alistair's hands on her shoulders, felt his deep concern, and knew that because of their discussion last night he knew there was more than just some pain through a magical attack going on here. If the mark was spreading, it was killing her a little more right now.

She didn't look to see if it was in fact spreading. She was too busy trying not to scream or shout and give Livius any verbally satisfying reaction.

"That mark you bear? The anchor that lets you pass safely through the Veil? You stole that from my master. He's been forced to seek other ways to access the Fade."

At Livius' snarky voice, and feeling Alistair's strong and comforting grip on her shoulders, plus knowing Dorian was right behind her with equal measures of concern, Amariel drew strength from them—and from some thoughts of Cullen—in order to endure. She grit her teeth, biting down a little harder on her lip as she drew herself up to her feet slowly, allowing the magic Livius was using to drag her hand forward, getting a feel for the magic in his hand like she would get a feel for the rifts.

"When I bring him your head, his gratitude will be—" Livius suddenly cut off with a shout of pain as Amariel yanked her hand back like she did with rifts, watching as he was sent flying backwards, looking at her in sudden fear. Now that she was apparently all right, fiery, dangerous determination glinting in her eyes, her companions regrouped around her, Alistair close to her left side, Blackwall at her right, Dorian right behind her, and Cole shadowing Alistair, smug smiles on all their faces as Livius limped to his feet.

"Kill them!" he shrieked, and all the Wardens focused on them, as did the demons, while the rift in the center of the room flared to life.

Joy.

Without any hesitation—and needed to kill something now, despite how tired she was—Amariel unsheathed her blades, lunging at the first demon that came at her that wasn't a rage demon to take care of, hoping that the only ones she'd have to take care of were the demons.

She didn't know if she could bring herself to kill the enslaved Wardens, especially knowing Alistair and Blackwall. Then again, she'd already been forced to kill enslaved Templars, despite knowing Cullen.

With Alistair and Hawke at their side, all six of them made quick work of the meager force gathered at the tower—they had claimed a keep not that long ago by themselves—what was the ruins of a ritual tower housing a few possessed Wardens and demons? Still, despite how quickly they all weaved through the forces they were faced with, Livius managed to get away in the chaos, meaning that they had a goose chase ahead of them.

Just what they needed after hearing that Livius was trying to raise the demon army.

Once the last man fell, Hawke ran up to them, and they all gathered in a circle to discuss what had just happened.

"They refused to listen to reason," Hawke said sadly.

"You were right—thanks to the ritual, the Warden mages are enslaved to Corypheus," Alistair said with a shake of his head, a tortured light flickering in his eyes at being forced to kill fellow Wardens not in their right minds.

"And the Warden warriors?" Hawke stated, then looked down as realization fell over her. "Of course. Sacrificed in the ritual…what a waste."

"Erimond lied to the Wardens. They were trying to prevent future Blights," Amariel said with a shake of her head. She saw Alistair shoot her a grateful look for standing up for the Wardens still, despite all they'd just heard and seen, though she had to focus on Hawke as the woman spoke next.

"With blood magic and human sacrifice?" Hawke asked sharply, eyes narrowing. Alistair was quick to defend his brothers in arms.

"Hawke, they made a mistake, but they thought it was necessary," Alistair said sternly.

"All blood mages do. Everyone has a story they tell themselves to justify bad decisions…and it _never_ matters. In the end, you are always alone with your actions," Hawke said firmly, folding her arms over her chest and daring him with her gaze to question her logic.

Alistair sighed and turned back to Amariel, choosing not to argue with her further but also looking world weary. "I may know where the Wardens are. Erimond fled that way…There's an abandoned Warden fortress in that direction. Adamant."

"Good thinking. We can send a bird and have spies there in no time figuring out if there's any activity down there."

"I was going to say we could scout the fortress, but if you already have people nearby…" Hawke stated. Amariel smiled.

"Knowing Leliana, probably."


	8. Chapter 8: Always, A Hero Comes Home

_**Yaaaaaaay new chapter! (I know this took a while, the dialogue was tricky for me to figure out at some points lol. It's strange to have a 100% Original content chapter...strange and nice.)**_

 _ **I'm just excited for the next chapter hehehehehe I'm glad we're there in the story now hehehehehehehe**_

 _ **Sorry, the scheming part of me is having a field day lol.**_

 _ **Please Review and, as always, Enjoy!**_

* * *

As soon as their group returned to Griffin Wing Keep, as that was the closest Inquisition outpost to the ritual tower, Amariel sent two birds—one to Cullen giving him a detailed, several pages long letter over what had happened and also containing an apology that she hadn't written sooner, and one to the spies that she knew of closest to where Alistair said Adamant was. She made sure her little band was well rested and fed that night, giving them the afternoon off so they could rejuvenate after the trying trip. The next morning, she helped the dragon researcher Frederick as much as possible—taking a request for her people to look into further information for his research—before they set out to return to Skyhold. The group was relaxed as they traveled back, talking easily with one another about a wide variety of subjects. Amariel took the time to get to know Alistair more, a task made easier since he rode not too far behind her position at the front.

"So, you trained as a Templar for a while? You don't really seem the type," Amariel asked. Alistair brought his horse to walk side by side with her hart, a small smile slipping across his face.

"No, I'm not," he agreed with a chuckle. "I was good at it, but I was never much of the obedient, pious chantry boy type."

"You, the rebellious troublemaker? No…" Amariel said with a smirk.

"Well…more of a prankster with underappreciated jokes," Alistair amended, appearing truly at ease for the first time since Amariel had met him. "As much as the Grand Cleric hated me and my rambunctiousness, it took Duncan, my mentor, invoking the right of conscription to draft me into the ranks of the Wardens. He was just in time, too—he managed to get me before I swore any vows."

"So, you got all the Templar training—the education, the swordsmanship, the lyrium, the whole gig—without any of the vows?" Amariel asked.

"In a nutshell."

"Do you still use your Templar abilities? And the lyrium too, in that case?" Amariel asked, trying to discreetly get some more information about the trial Cullen was going through. If Alistair had taken lyrium before but wasn't on it any more, that was proof that breaking the lyrium addiction wasn't impossible.

Alistair glanced at her, something flickering in his eyes she couldn't name. "I still use the abilities when I need to—you don't need lyrium to learn the abilities, it simply makes those abilities more effective. I took a little of it while I was training, but I haven't for quite some time..."

Amariel felt her hopes of possibly finding someone who had already beaten the lyrium addiction drop. Alistair hadn't taken lyrium nearly as long as Cullen had, and possibly had never had enough to become addicted to it in the first place. So much for that idea. There were a few moments of silence between them as Amariel searched for some way to continue the conversation after Alistair crushed her original idea, though Alistair broke the silence first.

"How is the Commander holding up, considering? I know he quit lyrium—he shows some of the withdrawal signs," Alistair said casually, though Amariel wondered how he'd been able to make that leap in conversation—had he seen through her veiled attempt to investigate on Cullen's behalf?

"He's…" Amariel hesitated, looking for the right word, though hastily settling on one once she couldn't get anything better to come to mind. "Coping. If I may ask, what _are_ the signs? I haven't asked."

Alistair sighed, and Amariel noticed that once the conversation had switched to Cullen specifically Alistair had moved his steed closer, allowing their conversation to be a little more private. "It depends on how bad the withdrawal is. There can be paranoia, obsession, dementia, fatigue, forgetfulness, unquenchable thirst, headaches, cold hands…sometimes it's so bad they can't distinguish dream from reality or memory from present, or their worst memories and nightmares play out in their mind even when they're wide awake…it's a truly unpleasant thing, horrible in its worst forms…though I believe your Commander isn't cursed with most of the worst symptoms as far as I can tell."

Amariel looked down, slowly losing herself in thought while Cullen's words drifted back to her.

 _I can endure it._

Now knowing more of what _it_ entailed, Amariel wanted nothing more than to be near the former Templar and give him a hug she hoped would give him some comfort. Unfortunately, the moment for that had long since passed, and she was still quite a way from Skyhold. If they raced as fast as they could and pushed the steeds to near death they'd get there in roughly a day, but she wasn't cruel, and she loved Master Dennet's steeds.

"So, my friendly Black Panther, did you inform our dear Commander of our dragon and keep adventures, or are you leaving that to whoever is your leak again?" Dorian suddenly asked, his white horse coming closer to Amariel and Alistair.

Amariel frowned, brow furrowing over the nickname as she dismissed his jab for the moment. "Black Panther? Where in the name Mythal and Andraste did you come up with that?"

"You don't know?" Dorian asked in a moment of puzzlement. When Amariel shook her head, he lit up. "Ever since you judged Alexius, people have started calling you The Panther, or The Black Panther, on top of the Herald and Inquisitor title. They said while you were judging him you were like a black panther lounging in its seat but ready to strike if rubbed the wrong way—an accurate depiction, if you ask me. Black suits you, my dear."

Amariel sighed. "Great, another title—just what I needed. And to answer your earlier question, I did tell him, so whoever ratted me out doesn't get the chance to do that this time. No doubt I'll hear all about it once we return."

"Perhaps we should start calling you Dragon Bait as well," Dorian said with a grin.

Amariel closed her eyes. "So many come backs, not enough time to pick the perfect one before the moment passes."

"I'll thank my lucky stars you're not quick on the uptake today," Dorian chuckled.

"Cruel Tevinter Mage," Amariel muttered.

"You wound me."

"Oh, Dorian, you'd know if I was trying to wound you—I'd say something more like your robes are actually out of style and we just tell you otherwise so we don't hurt your feelings."

"Don't jest about such serious matters!"

"The fact that you consider robes more important than—"

"Danger!" Cole suddenly said sharply, and an arrow whizzed through the air as if to prove his point, landing firmly in Amariel's left shoulder. She gasped in shock, managing to remain on her steed while Alistair swiftly unsheathed his sword and fixed his shield on his arm, Dorian pulling out his mage staff while Amariel reached for her bow. They didn't have to wait long before their unseen enemies revealed themselves, jumping from the rocks above to land upon the surprised party. Alistair knocked one out of the air as they tried to launch themselves down at Amariel, Dorian cooking another alive on the other side. Amariel didn't even glance back to check on Hawke, Cole, and Blackwall, hearing Blackwall's metal shield smashing into bone followed by the swift hum of more arrows, but from their side as well.

Alistair's shield reached over to take a few more arrows that sailed her way, and Amariel stalwartly ignored the arrow still sticking out of her arm despite the fact it hurt as badly as if Corypheus' dragon had taken a bite out of her. While the pain only seemed to gradually increase in her shoulder, Amariel grit her teeth and started firing arrows into their attackers, managing to fell a few that tried to slip under Dorian's and Alistair's defenses. The sounds of their fighting echoed around the rocky hills they'd been travelling through for what felt like hours before the attackers all lay dead, everyone breathing heavily but still seated on healthy and living steeds.

"Is everyone alright?" Amariel asked, putting her bow back on her back before she reached over to place a hand over her wound.

"We're fine, it's you that was injured," Dorian chided, carefully helping her off her horse. The others slowly gathered, waiting to hear the verdict from Dorian—they're experienced but still not expert, best they had healer—while he laid Amariel down. "Ready? One…two…"

Amariel bit back her shout of pain when Dorian pulled the arrow out, eyes squeezed shut. Dorian sucked in a sharp breath, and Amariel froze, keeping her eyes closed. "What is it?"

"See if any of these men are still alive—now!" Dorian said sharply after several tense moments. "This arrow was poisoned—and I can't tell with what. If I can't tell, I can't heal her!"

Amariel felt her heart stop. Poisoned? With something Dorian wasn't aware of? And how long had that arrow been lodged in her arm? That was just her luck—leave it to her to be poisoned with something the Tevinter native wasn't familiar with.

There were several minutes of searching, during which Amariel kept her eyes firmly shut, focusing on breathing evenly while she felt Dorian gently pressing around the wound, trying to decide how to go about her injury.

"This one's still breathing!" came Blackwall's gruff voice, followed by the sound of a body being dragged along the ground. Amariel finally opened her eyes, reaching for Alistair with her good arm so he could help her sit up.

"Can you wake him?" Amariel asked, doing her best not to look at the arm Dorian had a bandage pressed to in order to stop the bleeding.

Blackwall kicked the man with an armored boot, gaining a groan from him but nothing more. Dorian scowled, than reached forward with frosty ice magic gathering on his fingertips to touch the man's neck. The man gasped awake, and Blackwall and Alistair quickly restrained him, Dorian shifting forward to wave the arrow in his face as the man focused.

"This arrow…what's it poisoned with?" Dorian asked bluntly. The man grinned.

"Wouldn't you like to know—she'll be dead days before you reach your precious Skyhold," the man sneered, closing his mouth firmly for a few moments. Understanding lit Blackwall's eyes, and he tried to stop the man, tried to pry his jaw open, but didn't react before the man suddenly bit down on something, starting to froth as the three backed away. "Hail…the Elder One!"

"We have to get her back to Skyhold—someone there will know what to do, there are plenty of surgeons, medics, healers, herbalists—someone will know what to do," Blackwall said, his tone coming off extremely worried.

"We're still days from Skyhold, and she doesn't have that long according to our frothy friend," Hawke said darkly, kicking the corpse as she came to stand by the group.

"He wasn't lying. The poison's spreading—slowly, but still fast enough she won't last," Cole said quietly, hat tipped so low no one could see his face.

Dorian looked around, one hand on Amariel's knee, the fear of losing his friend clear in his eyes. She hated seeing him like that, and was about to try and comfort him despite the fact she hadn't even recovered from the shock of being told she was going to die from a poisoned arrow before he suddenly spoke, pulling her hart closer to them.

"She'll make it if she makes a hard ride to Skyhold without stopping on the fastest steed we have with us," Dorian said, eyes already steeling over with determination.

"Dorian, I'll probably lose consciousness before I even get there," Amariel said with a sigh, holding the bandage he'd abandoned in his scatter-brained state to her wound.

"That's why there will be two on the hart—you and whoever goes with you to make sure you keep going and that you make it. We'll take all the gear except what you absolutely need so that he's got a little less weight to carry, and you'll head straight for Skyhold," Dorian said firmly. Amariel straightened slightly. It could work, maybe, but she'd take a maybe over a no.

"Get the saddle off him too—that thing weighs as much as me—two people can bareback him if we're careful," Amariel said, trying to get to her feet without disturbing her wounded arm. Alistair helped her up carefully, worry alight in his eyes.

"I'll go with her," he announced, drawing everyone's attention. Dorian immediately countered.

"I'd rather I went with her—I can use my magic to try and stall the poison if she gets worse."

"But if there's another attack I have a better chance—I'm well armored but still lightly enough I have enough space to move, I can shield her from distant attacks and I can fend off anyone who gets too close. Plus, this won't be the first time I made a trip like this," Alistair said firmly.

Dorian was about to protest but Amariel cut him off, soothingly rubbing the hart's muzzle while Hawke removed the excess bags and saddle. "Quit puffing your peacock feathers, Dorian, I know you care but we don't have time to fight over who's taking me. Alistair, you can come," she said tiredly.

"I'll get you back safely, My Lady, you have my word," Alistair said gently, and Amariel turned back to the hart.

"I need you to run swift and run long, for my sake, friend," Amariel whispered to the hart. "Bring us home, or I'll surely die."

Everyone pretended not to hear her, but she knew some of them had when they shifted uncomfortably. Alistair approached her, helping her back onto the hart and taking up the position behind her. Before Alistair could grab the reins from around Amariel, Dorian grabbed something from his pack and shoved it into Alistair's hand along with the arrow that had pierced her shoulder. Amariel twisted in her seat to see Alistair held a small flask with something obviously magical and red swirling inside.

"Cullen and I devised a signal, should we ever be returning and Amariel was gravely injured without time to warn Skyhold. When you get close enough for someone on the battlements to see you, break the flask—the smoke will be the signal," Dorian said firmly, holding Alistair's gaze. It seemed Dorian was trying to tell Alistair with his eyes that if Amariel died on this trip before she could get back, Dorian would hunt Alistair down and succeed where the misled Wardens had failed. Alistair put the flask and arrow away safely, and Amariel and Alistair both shifted to more comfortable positions on the hart, Alistair wrapping his arms securely around Amariel's waist as he reached forward to take the reins. She was surprised to find herself suddenly completely within the Warden's firm yet comforting embrace, his chest flush against her back with how close together they sat. She focused instead on keeping the bandage in place, knowing he was just trying to keep her securely in place where she wouldn't fall off.

"I'll have word sent when we reach Skyhold," Alistair told him with a stiff nod, and before Amariel could register what was happening he'd spurred the hart to action and the creature took off, easily jumping over the dead bodies in their path and flying across the familiar terrain.

* * *

Cullen sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he shuffled through the reports littering his desk for what felt like the thousandth time. His headaches were being particularly troublesome today, and he was finding it hard to focus on the endless stream of information.

Though there was another reason for his distraction…

It was only midday, and yet Cullen had already pulled out Amariel's long letter several times to read over her recounting of events in her usually witty way to help with the grim and serious nature of the material within. He still had to decide what he was going to scold her about first—running into another dragon or laying siege to a keep with only a handful of people and no real plan again. Whatever the case, he was sure when she arrived the opportunity would arise for him to mention those instances.

They needed to find her dragon repellant of some kind and bribe Blackwall to keep her from storming keeps without any plans.

Still, as crazy as her methods were sometimes according to her reports, they worked, and if they worked he couldn't argue much other than protest in the name of her safety.

Cullen shuffled through a few more reports before he found himself unable to focus, taking just long enough to sort the reports into two messy piles—one of reports he had managed to read, and one of reports he had yet to read. Thankfully, the pile of the unread reports was smaller, so he felt justified in taking a moment to slip out onto the battlements, approaching the edge and casually leaning against the stone. He closed his eyes, taking a moment to breathe in the cool mountain air and feel the light breeze against his face as a way to relax.

All he needed, apparently, was a few minutes out of the office. He'd have to make sure to take some time here and there to relax so he didn't accidentally overwhelm himself in the future.

Once his head was decently clearer—he still had that Maker-forsaken headache, but he would live—Cullen opened his eyes, casting his gaze over the mountains. All was quiet outside Skyhold, those inside going about their day-to-day business from refugees resting in a safe place before venturing elsewhere to people honing their skills with swords and daggers in the courtyards below.

Cullen didn't know how long he stood there, but eventually he decided it was time to return to his desk and the reports he had yet to read—and no doubt during his brief interlude there had already appeared more to read.

Cullen started to turn away when he thought he spotted something moving fast in the far distance. Curious, Cullen turned back, placing both hands on separate stones of the battlements and leaning forward, trying to make out the tiny spot that was quickly coming closer, though was still to far away for Cullen to put detail to it. He felt a frown tug at his lips eyes narrowed as he took in the speed of whatever this approaching person or thing was. It was moving far too quickly for it to be any average person…maybe a steed moving as fast as was possible. The latter was far more likely, and Cullen felt his gut shift uneasily at the thought of why someone would be moving so quickly through the mountains towards Skyhold.

The form barely started to get some shape—enough so that Cullen decided that it was a steed racing towards Skyhold—when a sudden plume of red smoke started to trail behind it, swirling up into the air. As soon as the sight registered in his mind, Cullen's heart leapt into his throat and froze there, his mind blanking for a few seconds before he suddenly whipped around and raced for the closest stairwell, slamming two of the doors to his office open on the way.

"Get the best healer we have to the gates, _now_!" Cullen roared at the first Inquisition soldier he spotted. His voice carried and instantly drew attention, but he didn't care, racing towards the gates at a breakneck speed of his own while the soldier sprinted off at his commander's terrifying tone. "Open the gate!" he shouted at the two guards standing by the gate's control, casting his gaze over the bridge and watching as the red smoke continued to trail, the steed getting gradually larger. By the time the gate was halfway up Cullen could tell it was Amariel's hart, and he could see what looked like one misshapen figure hunched over the hart as if the motion would help the sprinting creature fly faster across the land it was covering. Cullen waited tensely on the other side of the gate, hearing people start to rush over to see what was happening.

The hart started crossing the bridge, and Cullen could see blue and red, could discern that there were two people on the back of the hart, and then suddenly the hart was stumbling to a stop before Cullen, legs shaking as it came to a halt and started wheezing instantly, head bowed so low it almost touched the ground. Cullen had no time to feel sorry for the creature—he was busy taking in the sight of its two passengers.

Alistair and Amariel were on the hart's back, with Alistair looking stiff, worn, worried, and tired, but no less determined, and Amariel held close to his chest, a bloody bandage wrapped around her shoulder, but also completely unconscious and slumped against Alistair, coated in a sheen of sweat, breathing heavy and labored, and eyes darting rapidly under closed lids.

"What happened?" Cullen demanded as Alistair stretched sore muscles, looking like he hadn't shifted from the hunched over position he'd been in when he'd raced towards Skyhold for hours. Alistair carefully gathered Amariel to him, handing her down to Cullen with a mindful tenderness.

"We were ambushed yesterday around midday…she was hit with a poison arrow," Alistair explained tiredly. "Dorian couldn't identify the poison, and we managed to get it out of one of the surviving attackers—before they took poison of their own—she wouldn't make the trip back. We rode ahead of the others. She lost consciousness a few hours ago—here's the arrow."

Now that Amariel was in Cullen's arms, he could feel her body shuddering, could feel just how drenched in sweat she really was, see just how unhealthily pale she really was, the cracked lips, the sickly pallor of her skin…

The list went on.

Alistair presented the offending arrow as he stiffly got off the hart, leaning against the exhausted creature for stability as he struggled to get used to ground again after riding for such a long time. The party hadn't been scheduled to arrive for several more days—he'd covered a miraculous amount of ground in a short period of time for her sake.

"Commander!" someone called behind him, and Cullen turned to see the scout he'd roared at with a certain mage at his side.

"Grand Enchanter Fiona," Cullen said with just a few notes of relief. Fiona was a renowned healer; if anyone could help, she could. The woman's gaze slid over to the sore Warden for a few seconds, something unintelligible flickering through her eyes before she turned her attention to the dying woman in Cullen's arms.

He tried to keep his brain from processing the _dying_ part.

"She's been poisoned, at least a day now," Cullen told her as the woman immediately started to examine her. Alistair limped forward, still stiff and obviously sore.

"I have the arrow here," Alistair said, presenting it to Fiona. Fiona glanced between them, carefully taking the bloodied arrow.

"Take her to her quarters away from all these prying eyes—I will meet you there once I have what I need to treat her," Fiona stated in a quiet but serious tone. Cullen nodded curtly, and as Fiona went off in one direction Cullen rushed for the stairs, taking them two, sometimes even three at a time. He did slow down slightly when he realized Alistair was following, sympathy for the poor man riding bareback at a dead sprint for a full day and gratefulness for his efforts to get Amariel back to Skyhold dominating why he slowed for the man. Cullen led the way through the main hall, through the back door, up the steps, and into Amariel's room, lying her down on her bed gently. Every moment passed she only seemed to be getting worse.

"She's been deteriorating faster and faster since it happened," Alistair supplied as Cullen took off one of his gloves and felt her clammy forehead.

"Thank you for getting her here—I know that trip must not have been easy," Cullen said quietly.

"It was the least I could do," Alistair replied. Hurried footsteps up the stairs drew their attention, and Fiona appeared with a few more mages in tow as well as a multitude of herbs, lyrium, and other things Cullen was sure played some sort of role. He moved a respectable distance away—from the lyrium, mostly—as the mages gathered around, retreating to join Alistair in leaning against the fireplace. Cullen couldn't tell what they were doing, but he decided to trust that they knew what they were doing.

Soft glows of blue and green and pale yellow emanated from the mage's hands as they worked, brows furrowed in concentration, and the poisoned arrow held in the hands of the mage whose hands were glowing green so he could study it and name the poison. They murmured in soft whispers to one another while they worked, though they stayed so quiet Cullen couldn't hear, which did nothing to sooth his nerves.

More footsteps sounded on the stairs, and Leliana and Josephine appeared at the top of the stairs, taking in the sight before them with instant worry. "We heard about her arrival—what's going on?" Josephine asked, though Leliana's sharp eyes were quick to pick up what was going on with the mages.

"She was poisoned," Leliana stated, looking to Cullen for confirmation, who nodded.

"Oh dear," Josephine breathed.

"They were definitely assassins, though we couldn't get anything out of them other than she didn't have much time and _hail The Elder One_ ," Alistair chipped in, looking down into the fire while he spoke before he turned to face the other three. Cullen's gaze kept slipping over to Amariel and the mages, but he didn't really care if the others noticed and commented on it.

"Which means they will try again," Leliana said with a nod.

"If that's the case, we should have someone keep guard," Cullen said almost instantly.

"I don't mind keeping an eye on her," Alistair volunteered, surprising them. When he saw the expressions on their faces, he straightened. "What? What else am I going to do, stand around on the battlements watching the mountains to see if I can catch them moving?"

His expression softened, as did his voice. "Amariel has a good heart, and I've come to see her as a friend—I have no problem with giving my time to make sure she's safe while she's recovering."

 _If she recovers,_ a cruel voice in the back of Cullen's mind whispered.

"Well, that is one less thing to worry about. I will make sure that news of this does not spread _too_ far," Josephine added, and they all cast their gazes to the mages hovering over Amariel's fragile form.

 _Maker, let her be all right._

* * *

At some point the mages ushered everyone out of the room, stating that they needed space and focus and the four's hushed whispers figuring all sorts of little details out was not helping. As it was, Cullen now paced along the balcony just outside of Amariel's quarters, Alistair leaning against the stone wall and gazing out the window. Eventually, as Cullen passed him once ore in his pacing, Alistair spoke up.

"Wearing a rut in the wood isn't going to do anything," he chided, though his tone was soft and understanding. "Personally, I take the fact it's been so long as a comfort—it's far better than them coming out within minutes and pronouncing her situation fatal."

 _I'd rather they came out within a few minutes and pronounced her cured_ , Cullen couldn't help but think, but he pushed the thought aside. Although he didn't say anything, he sighed and pulled on his years as a Templar to stand still, choosing the corner of the walkway facing the door that led to the steps into Amariel's room as his spot. The silence continued to stretch, and at some point Alistair hummed a simple tune to himself, one that seemed to relax him. Cullen was left to the thoughts of what if, his lyrium headache, the twisting and cold feeling in his gut…

The door opened and Fiona appeared, taking in the two waiting men who stood at attention before the door even finished opening. Fiona held up her hands as they approached, staving off any questions they planned on bombarding her with.

"You can go up to see her now. She's still unconscious, and likely will be for some time until she makes a full recovery," Fiona stated.

"Full recovery," Cullen repeated. "So she's cured?"

"As far as we're aware, yes. It would be best to keep a close watch on her health in the coming days just to be sure. I'm sending the arrow down to Helisma so she can study this poison further so we can come up with a better antidote for it, should it ever make a reappearance," Fiona explained. Cullen's brows furrowed.

"You'd never seen the poison before?"

Fiona hesitated, but didn't try to keep him in the dark. "No. It was not easy healing her, but we managed. The rest is up to her now. Even when she wakes I suggest rest and no field work for a while—the poison did a number on her body."

Cullen inclined his head. "I'll tell the others so they're aware. Thank you, Grand Enchanter."

"It's the least I can do, especially after she showed my people such mercy at Redcliffe."

Cullen nodded and stepped out of her way so she could pass, then quickly climbed up the stairs with Alistair, coming around the corner to see the mages cleaning up their mess. He stood well out of their way when they passed with the lyrium, drifting to Amariel's side.

She looked terrible, still, but he could see that the worst was indeed gone. Her breathing had evened out, and her face wasn't scrunched up in pain anymore. Still, as he looked down at her he couldn't help but think of another time he'd carried her to healers after she'd returned from a life-threatening event, another time he'd been forced away until she was better and had gazed upon her injured and unconscious form.

It wasn't at the magnitude of Haven this time, but still, they were in this situation once more.

 _I will not allow the events at Haven to happen again—you have my word._

 _Then I know I'm safe under your care, Commander._

Cullen's hand clenched slightly on his sword hilt, but he let nothing else show the direction of his thoughts.

Yet he knew…if Amariel were awake…she would chastise him for even entertaining the thought that her current predicament was his fault. She'd remind him it was an ambush from assassins, and that no one could have predicted or changed what happened.

Subconsciously, one of his hands started to raise to touch her unmoving hand resting against the bed, but he stopped himself as soon as he realized what he was doing and remembered they weren't alone. Hoping Alistair hadn't been watching at that particular moment, Cullen did his best to disguise the motion, bringing the wandering hand around to rest on his sword with the other.

Footsteps signaled Alistair approaching, and Cullen turned to see the man had rested his sword and shield safely by the couch—no doubt that's where he planned to stay. "Don't worry, Commander—I'll keep an eye on her. If anything happens, you'll know," Alistair soothed him, coming to a stop at Cullen's side.

Cullen nodded slowly. "Of course. Now that she's healed, I should probably return to my duties," Cullen said simply. He didn't want to go. He didn't want to return to his duties in that moment. He wanted to remain at Amariel's side. But he had to, as much as he didn't want to.

Cullen backed away, inclining his head and murmuring one more 'thank you' before he passed Alistair and reluctantly returned to his office. All the while as he shuffled through reports and directed the men, he kept finding his thoughts stuck on the recovering woman in Skyhold's highest tower.

* * *

Days passed, and while Amariel got better in some aspects such as her physical appearance, she remained unconscious, and according to Alistair, she wasn't resting easily, though they were powerless to do much about it. All they could do was stand by helplessly while she occasionally tossed in distress and sometimes even murmured words in her sleep. The ones murmured the most were Redcliffe, Dorian, and Cullen, though when Alistair had asked Cullen of he could guess what was causing her so much distress Cullen could give him no answers as to what the connection could possibly be.

The rest of the party had arrived only two days ago, with Hawke apparently taking charge in Amariel's absence as she was at the front of the group when they returned. Dorian had been swift to ask about Amariel, going straight to Cullen while Cole simply vanished.

" _We got Alistair's letter—is she still all right? Nothing's changed?" Dorian asked in concern, his eyes staring so intently at Cullen he was probably ready to gauge if Cullen was going to lie to him to try and let him down easily or if he was being honest._

" _She's still recovering, yes. She hasn't woken up, yet, and she doesn't rest easy. The best we can do is wait and keep an eye on her—Alistair's been guarding her, just to be safe," Cullen assured him._

 _Dorian relaxed slightly, letting out a slow breath. "Good…that's good news…I suppose I'll go ahead and go see her, then," he said, sounding distracted while his brow furrowed, but he walked away without saying anything else. It seemed out of character—usually Dorian would linger and talk for a little while, and he always made at least one jab. The fact that he hadn't done neither despite Amariel being safe now…well, it made Cullen worry._

Now, Cullen made his way to visit Amariel as he usually did, rubbing absently at his neck and trying to ignore the curious stares from people he passed and the cold against his unprotected neck. Someone had made off with his fur mantle, and he had yet to find the culprit. Sera had been the first person he went to, but she'd truly had no idea where it was—he'd managed to get that out of her after she stopped laughing and making all sorts of ridiculous lion jokes.

Whenever he found the thief…

"Commander—you look…different."

Cullen looked up to see Dorian approaching him, having just emerged from Solas' study. Cullen scowled, rolling up the report he'd been reading and tucking away. "Not a word, Dorian—I already got plenty of teasing from Sera."

Dorian's lips quirked towards a smile. "You look almost naked without your fur—it's like seeing a hairless cat for the first time."

"Thank you, Dorian, I've always wanted to be compared to one of those hideous things."

Dorian chuckled. "So, someone stole your mane?"

Cullen's frown deepened—really, again with these jokes? "Yes, and if you happen to know who—"

"I don't—I, too, am looking for something that's been stolen."

Cullen's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Really? What did you lose?"

"This ancient book on healing I found in the private library on my way to the wine cellar—I set it on my usual chair so I could study it, had a brief confrontation with the lovely Reverend Mother, and when I turned back around it was gone. Someone took it while I wasn't looking. Solas doesn't have it, neither does Varric…"

Cullen felt a pang of sympathy for the Tevinter. It had not escaped Cullen's notice that ever since he'd returned, Dorian had been studying healing and poisons non-stop. It was apparent to Cullen that Dorian thought his lack of knowledge of poisons and less focus on healing had led to Amariel's predicament, and was trying to be better prepared should such a thing happen again and they weren't so lucky. "Have you tried Sera?"

"No, the two of us have an…understanding," Dorian said with a wave of his hand, brows furrowed thoughtfully. "She doesn't bother me, I help her with her with some of her…activities."

"Humph, you're the perfect target then," Cullen muttered before Dorian's last statement registered in his mind. "Wait, you help her? Were you the mage she got to make my armor freezing cold for an entire day?"

Dorian grinned. "Help her ruffle _your_ feathers, Commander? Perish the thought!" Cullen's scowl deepened, but Dorian laughed and spoke before he could reply. "I've given up searching for my book for now—I'm assuming since you're in here with us castle-dwellers you came to visit Amariel as well?"

Cullen sighed, softening. "Yes, I was just on my way there."

"Well then, let's go see if the Warden's lost his mind staring at the same four walls yet," Dorian mused, already moving forward. Cullen shook his head and let the mage lead, the pair making their way up the tower to Amariel's room.

When they crested the staircase the first thing Cullen noticed was Alistair stretched out on the couch reading a small book about the Hero of Ferelden with an amused smile on his face. The next thing he noticed was the fact that his missing mantle was draped over Amariel's chest, and an ancient-looking leather book rested on her side with her hand resting casually over it. The unexpected sight stopped both Dorian and Cullen in their tracks, and Alistair looked up from his book as the two looked at him.

"It wasn't me," he said with the tone of someone who was quite used to proclaiming their innocence in odd situations. He gestured up at the balcony, and there Cullen saw who should have been his first guess after Sera.

Cole.

The spirit boy was looking down at Amariel, kicking his feet idly with a far away look on his face. Cullen was the first to speak. "Cole, why did you—"

Cole didn't give him time to finish.

"Warm like the blanket given on the lake's dock, the familiar smell that makes her think home, think comfort. Ancient, musty book smell, leather against the fingers—Dorian comes to mind, always around the books. The chink in his armor while he walks, his voice, too, sometimes, distant and barely heard but there, reminding of talks at night after nightmares..." Cole finished speaking his fragmented observations, looking over to the three men that were now staring at him. "It makes her feel better—sometimes she can smell, can feel, can hear...these remind her of people she cares about, makes her feel safe, feel comfortable."

"He explained to me when he came in carrying the stuff—I wasn't going to argue," Alistair said, setting the book aside. "I figured you'd find out sooner or later when you came for your regular visits."

Cullen approached Amariel's side, and he had to admit she was looking more...at rest, and he couldn't bring himself to ask for his mantle back. Gently, he touched her shoulder, glad to feel that she wasn't as cold as she'd been when she'd arrived, and she wasn't trembling. "If it helps her feel better, I don't mind. Just...ask, next time, instead of just making off with it," Cullen told Cole, forcing his hand to drop away.

"And perhaps next time you don't pick a book I'm currently trying to read," Dorian added, folding his arms over his chest.

Cole nodded. "If she needs the comfort again I will ask and not take a book being read."

"If you can pick up on these things…how is she?" Cullen ventured to ask, his gaze unwavering from Amariel's unconscious form.

"It is dark and cold…warmer, with the fur. She hurts, but it is not he burning, searing hurt. It is a tired hurt, like she's being pulled down through cold water, and everything aches. And she feels alone when she's awake, until she feels someone's there."

"I think that's the clearest you've been since you came here, Cole," Dorian said evenly, though his expression seemed sad.

"I wish I could do more to help, but I don't know what else she could need," Cole said with a sigh. A silence fell over their small group for a few long moments, and then Cole suddenly brightened, looking at Alistair. "Yes, that would work!"

Alistair blinked as all eyes shifted to him, surprised. "What?"

"Words soft and gentle as her touch, an imperfectly perfect voice, invoking warmth, comfort," Cole said hurriedly, staring intently at Alistair, who seemed bemused. "She likes music, likes songs—especially natural ones, ones that sound like they belong, like they can stand on their own. Just like the song she could hear in the forest. The song could make her feel more at home, and hold back the fear that haunts her dreams."

Alistair seemed to put two and two together, and he shook his head adamantly. "Oh, no, I don't sing—Aurora's the one who sings, not me. Well, she doesn't really sing either, not around people anyway, not unless it's me, even then…" He cut himself off when he realized he was babbling, a blush starting to gather at the tips of his ears and in his cheeks.

Cole didn't seem to care. "She just needs to hear you, whether you think you can sing the song or not. And you're the one who knows the song, so it has to be you," Cole said stubbornly.

"Shall I play the lute to accompany you?" Dorian asked, gesturing at the lute sitting in the corner. Cullen frowned.

"You play the lute?"

"No, but it would be interesting to try," Dorian said with a grin.

Cole's attention didn't waver from poor Alistair. "Please? It will help her feel better, I know it will."

Alistair sighed, seeming to admit defeat to himself. "Is she even awake right now?"

Cole cocked his head to the side. "Buzzing, faded, distant, but…there…too far, too quiet to hear loudly."

Alistair shook his head. "I'll take that as a yes," he muttered. "I don't know if it really fits…it's something Aurora cooked up for me specifically…but if you say so…"

Alistair moved around Cullen, sitting down on the side of Amariel's bed. He took a few moments to gather himself, simply looking at her in silence for a few moments before he took a deep breath and started to sing a quiet song Cullen recognized as the one he'd hummed to himself while they'd waited for word of Amariel's health. Alistair was right, he wasn't the best singer, and the song was rather short…but despite that, the song itself was…comforting, especially for people in their situation.

"Just…wait…for wide he may roam…always, a hero comes home. He goes, where no one has gone, but always, a hero comes home. He knows of places unknown…always, a hero comes home. He goes, where no one has gone, but always…a hero comes home."

"She heard you," Cole said with a smile, and Cullen felt his heart ache to know she was so close to recovery, yet still so far. "It did help—now she knows just how close everyone is."

"So…are you going to try and turn me into a bard now, going to guilt trip me into singing another song?" Alistair asked, running a hand through his hair.

Cullen allowed a chuckle to escape him, though Dorian made the witty comeback. "Well, at the very least you can replace Maryden in the Tavern." Alistair actually laughed at that, and he relaxed considerably.

"I think I'll stick to my current occupation, thanks," he chuckled. Dorian chose that moment to drift away, heading in the direction of Amariel's small personal library in the corner.

"I wonder if her shelves have better taste than the ones in the library," Dorian murmured curiously, eyes already skimming the book covers.

"Well, just don't read the one about the Hero of Ferelden—I must say, that book is terribly inaccurate. Zevran wasn't hired to do dirty work for us, Sten wasn't a Quinari servant, and…well…let's just say it's a long list of inaccuracies," Alistair finished.

"Do share, Alistair—I was intrigued as it was with the stories you shared at camp the other day…"

Cullen tuned them out after then, pinching the bridge of his nose and fighting off a rather nasty pulse of his headache. He breathed deeply, taking a moment to re-center himself and making a conscious effort to keep his cold and trembling hands steady. His nightmares were…well…they were starting to get worse, and he was starting to see them clearly in his mind's eye while awake. Still…he'd promised her—

"I can endure it."

Cullen jumped at Cole's sudden proclamation, and the spirit didn't give him much time to register his words before continuing. "You're worried you'll break that promise, crack, but you promised her…you'll keep your promise, _because_ it's her."

Cullen shifted uneasily as, once more, Cole laid something of Cullen's private life out for everyone to see. "I should probably get back to work—I stopped by because I was headed this way anyway," he said hastily, pulling out the report he'd tucked away as if to prove his point. "Send me news should anything happen."

"Of course," Alistair said evenly, and Cullen took his leave, feeling Alistair's eyes on him until he had disappeared from sight.

* * *

More days passed, and everyone began to worry if Amariel would wake. Alistair hadn't seen any signs of her awakening any time soon despite the fact he was constantly in the room with her. She'd had plenty of visitors while she was unconscious, though the most common was Cullen, Dorian, and Cole. Dorian usually came and simply pulled her chair close to her bed and read whatever book he was studying at the time. It did not escape Alistair's notice that most of those books were on healing or poisons, still, though every now and then he had a history book or something that was based on some other field of magic.

Cullen, on the other hand…well, he dropped in more often than Dorian, though he tried to make it discreet or seem casual every time. Never once did he take his fur mantle back—he left it with Amariel. Sometimes, when Cullen came to visit Amariel, Alistair could see the strains of lyrium withdraw effecting him, and Alistair wondered if Cullen's concern over the Inquisitor was perhaps worsening his condition. Alistair felt pity for him, and didn't envy the strain that was on the man's shoulders between his withdraw, leading the Inquisition's forces, and with his concern over Amariel's current state.

Alistair hoped she woke soon…

It didn't help he was growing restless after so long. He didn't mind watching over her, but it was as quiet as the Chantry in this room when no one else was around, and there wasn't much left to do that he hadn't already done. Not to mention thoughts of Adamant were still swirling in his mind.

And he missed his beloved, so much…

As his thoughts turned to his wife once more, Alistair leaned casually in the doorway to one of the balconies, breathing in the cool mountain air and closing his eyes for a moment, doing his best to ignore the music of the Calling while he thought of Aurora. He could recall her laugh from his memories so strongly he practically heard her beside him, and from there he could feel her comforting hand on his chest, moving up to comfortingly rub his shoulder as she spoke quiet words of endearment meant only for his ears. He could see her clear, deep blue eyes, could watch as she let her rich blonde hair out of its constant messy bun just for him…

Alistair's heart throbbed when he made the mistake of opening his eyes and the illusion shattered, causing him to heave a sigh. Maker…he missed that woman…

"Not satisfied with the view?" came a quiet, fragile voice behind him, and Alistair spun to see Amariel watching him with a weak smile from the bed, her eyes glazed with exhaustion.

Alistair crossed the room in a matter of seconds, sitting down beside her on the bed. "You're awake!" he exclaimed. Amariel laughed quietly.

"I think I am—this isn't another dream, right?" she asked, though Alistair could tell she was partially serious.

"No, you're not dreaming," Alistair assured her. "How are you feeling?"

"Terrible, but much better," Amariel responded. "Thank you, Alistair…for getting me here."

Alistair smiled gently at her. "Of course—it was the least I could do."

Amariel blinked, seeming to register the fur around her as a few strands brushed along her cheek. She reached a hand up, running a hand along the fur. "This…is Cullen's," she stated with some confusion. Alistair snickered.

"Yeah…Cole stole it to help keep you comfortable and help you feel better. He could hardly argue with that, so you've had it for a few days now," Alistair explained, deciding not to comment on how she burrowed deeper into the fur as he spoke.

"I'll have to thank him. It's…very warm," she finished awkwardly, holding something back. Alistair smiled, but didn't push for the details, switching the topic and rising to his feet.

"You know, if I don't tell the Commander you've woken up he'll have my hide, and while I'm sure I'd make a pretty coat, I wouldn't like that very much."

Amariel laughed, though the sound was weak to match her state of being. "Oh, I wouldn't let him do that to you."

"Thank you, My Lady, but I'm pretty sure you're not in a state of being to stop him from doing so if he so desires," Alistair chuckled, moving back to the balcony. Cullen had smuggled one of Leliana's birds—the one he normally did, if Alistair recalled the brief conversation Amariel had with her companions outside his cave hideout so long ago correctly—for Alistair to keep on hand so that when Amariel woke Cullen would know as soon as possible. He scrawled the quick note, then let the bird go, watching it fly off towards Cullen's office before he returned to Amariel's room. "I'm sure he'll be here shortly. You've been out so long everyone was starting to get worried again."

Amariel's brows furrowed in concern. "How long?"

"A week and a half, two."

Amariel grimaced. "So long…"

Alistair nodded. "Yes, and Fiona insisted that once you woke you got plenty of bed rest, so you still won't be going anywhere anytime soon."

Amariel groaned. "Bedrest…it's my worst enemy. What will I do? I'll be bored out of my mind!"

Alistair chuckled. "Well, you at least won't be alone. I signed up for guard duty while you recover, so until you're back in peak condition, you'll have me as a companion."

Amariel smiled. "I actually don't mind that. I look forward to spending more time with you then, Alistair."

Alistair bowed his head. "The pleasure will be mine, My Lady."

Down below, they heard the muffled sound of a door being hastily opened, followed closely by another, though much louder and followed by footsteps. Within moments, Cullen appeared at the top of the stairs, and his gaze rested instantly on Amariel.

* * *

Cullen felt the relief flow all the way through him like he'd suddenly been encompassed in warm water when he saw Amariel awake with her bright blue gaze turned to him. Without any hesitation, Cullen moved to her side, hardly noticing as Alistair stood and moved out of his way, excusing himself by saying he's go spread news that Amariel was awake. By the time Cullen had sat down on the bed at Amariel's side, they were alone, and Cullen's mind was racing to pick what he should say first.

"You know, you really need to stop giving me—us—these scares. We were really worried for you…Alistair barely got here in time," Cullen found himself saying.

"I was worried too," Amariel admitted softly. "But I trusted him to get me here in time."

"Just…please try to be a little more careful in the future," Cullen pled, managing to hold her gaze.

"I'll try," she promised. Her brow furrowed, and she subconsciously chewed on her lip for a few moments before she spoke. "Dorian gave Alistair a flask with red smoke in it, and said it was a signal you and him had devised to alert you that I'd been gravely injured…how long have you had that signal?"

"Well…" Cullen said sheepishly, rubbing at his neck. "We talked about it not long after Haven. We agreed that it would be wise to do so considering your tendency to find trouble."

Amariel smiled at him, and he relaxed. "Well…I don't necessarily go looking for the trouble, I just tend to stumble across it."

"Either way, we still decided the signal was a good idea."

Amariel nodded, then started to remove the mantle she'd been buried inside. "I was told I should thank you for letting me keep the mantle after Cole stole it," she said with a small smile. "You can have it back now—it's odd, seeing you without it."

Cullen chuckled, gently taking the mantle from her and situating it in his usual place on his shoulders. "I didn't mind living without it for a few days," he assured her. A frown made its way across his face, and he leaned forward whilst removing one of his gloves, gently touching her forehead with his bare hand, the contact sending tingles up his arm. Instead of being ice cold to the touch, she felt warm. "How are you feeling, honestly?"

Amariel's smile turned sheepish. "I'm better than I was before I lost consciousness on the trip here, but I still feel terrible. As much as I don't like the thought of more bedrest, I'm not going to lie, I'll probably need it," she admitted, and Cullen felt his stomach do a nervous flip as she leaned into the contact with his hand.

"Your hand is cold," she commented, and Cullen sucked in a sharp breath, withdrawing his hand and mumbling out an apology while he reached for his glove. Maker, he didn't want her to witness his weakness in the face of his withdraws. The fact his hand was freezing cold when it had been snug inside a warm leather glove would send off warning bells in anyone's mind. So it was that when her hand reached out and weakly grasped at his still-bare hand, he was surprised, looking up to meet her gaze as she spoke again. "No, I wasn't complaining…it felt…good," she finally settled on saying quietly.

Cullen held still for a few moments, her warm hand gently clinging to his cold and slightly trembling hand while he processed what she was saying. She made no comment about the oddity of his unnaturally cold hands, only asked that he _didn't_ pull away. Once that registered, Cullen turned to face her a little more and carefully laid his hand on her forehead once more. "Better?" he asked softly.

Amariel let out a content sigh. "Much."

 _At least I've found something good to come out of these withdraw symptoms_ , Cullen couldn't help but think. Amariel let out a yawn, and Cullen couldn't help but smile, daring to let his hand wander enough to brush the hair from her face before laying gently upon her brow once more. "You should probably get your rest—you need it, and you've earned it. Skyhold will still be here when you wake, and if there's anything you need, you just need send word."

"Mm…but Dorian will probably want to see me…and the others…" Amariel murmured, though Cullen could hear the tired notes in her voice.

"They will understand that you need your rest," Cullen reprimanded her gently. Amariel nodded, and Cullen carefully removed his hand, putting his glove back on.

"All right…thank you, Cullen."

"Take care of yourself, Inquisitor."

"I will if you will…" she murmured, though he could tell by her tone that she was quickly fading.

"It's a deal," Cullen responded, though he received nothing in return—Amariel was already fast asleep. Carefully, he adjusted the blanket more securely around her, then simply waited for Alistair to return before he left.

His hand seemed to be tingling, and though his flesh was cold, on the inside, he felt perfectly warm.


	9. Chapter 9: The Unsaid

_**Ahh...some of these scenes have been swirling in my head for some time now...and the more I dip into Alistair/Aurora in the Alistair and Amariel conversations, the more I want to write an Origins story...but that won't be for a while lol, just saying. Want to work out some ideas and wrap up a few stories first.**_

 _ **Anyway, PLEASE review, I love you all soooooo much when you review, it makes me happier. (I love feedback haha)**_

 _ **Enjoy!**_

* * *

Even though Amariel was officially awake, Alistair remained her guard, stating that he wasn't going to quit his post until she was fully recovered once more—just to be safe. She didn't complain—that meant that she would continue to have company while confined to her room, and maybe she'd even be able to convince him to help her sneak out every now and then. For now, Alistair was occasionally relieved from his post by anyone who visited for an extended period of time. Right now that visitor was Dorian, who sat stretched out beside her on the bed with her head resting comfortably on his shoulder, a thick book on magic in his lap that he studied with such great concentration Amariel worried his face would freeze in its current serious expression.

"You seem pretty enraptured by that book," Amariel commented softly.

"It is gripping," Dorian replied automatically, eyes dissecting the paragraph he was currently on.

"I've noticed you've been reading a lot about healing," Amariel ventured cautiously. Dorian said nomething, though she felt the muscles in his shoulders and back tense underneath her head. She shifted, looking up at him. "Dorian..."

He still didn't reply, pretending he was too wrapped up in his book. Amariel was undaunted, reaching up to gently turn his head from the book towards her, fingers lingering on his chin as she searched his gaze. "Dorian, what happened wasn't your fault."

Dorian's eyes flashed. "I know I couldn't control the ambush, Amariel, but I could have done something about the poison if I would have been better educated in healing and poisons. My ineptitude put your life at risk. You'd think with all the trouble we run into on a daily basis—or my with Tevinter origins—I would have thought to pay healing a little more attention!"

Amariel frowned. "Dorian, there's nothing wrong with choosing to focus more on offensive and defensive attacks then healing. We all carry a lot of potions for healing, and we're in battle far more often than most—the choice to focus on battle was practical and one that's saved our skin many times. You studied as much healing as you could between everything else, and there's nothing wrong with that. Frankly, I'm glad you took time to find a way to sheath yourself in lightning while casting spells, how to suddenly make our enemies terrified of us, your ability to draw more energy and life into you from enemies to sustain you in battle…I have no complaints with how you've focused your talents."

Dorian's tortured look did not ease. "If they'd attacked us a little farther away from Skyhold…if you hadn't had that hart…I could have lost you—you, someone I consider my only friend…I refuse to let your life be the price for my ineptitude."

Amariel put her hands on either side of his face, holding his gaze. "You're not inept—you're a skilled mage, Dorian. I'd rather have you at my side than Solas and Vivienne, honestly. That's one of the reasons I always ask you to come. You are a talented, powerful, dashing, witty, caring, beautifully special snowflake, and I wouldn't trade My Dorian for the world, I would never ask My Dorian to change." Amariel rested her forehead on his, still holding his gaze. "If you want to focus more on healing after what happened, I'm fine with that—learn whatever magic you want to. But please don't blame yourself for what happened—no one could have predicted it, and you said it yourself, without knowing the poison it's harder to heal. You're not at fault, and I don't want you to think that any longer, okay?"

Dorian huffed, though a smile was snaking across his features and there was gratitude in his eyes. "Damn you, I was completely ready to shoulder that blame, and you just threw it away," he teased softly before he nodded. "Fine, My Black Panther, it's a deal…though when did I become _your_ Dorian?"

Amariel laughed. "You've always been My Dorian…and you always will," she said endearingly, kissing his forehead before she let her hands drop, snuggling closer to him with one arm resting across his chest and a head on his shoulder while he wrapped an arm around her to hold her close.

"Well…I'm not going to complain," Dorian replied quietly, returning his attention to the book in hand. A few long moments passed comfortably for the two of them where Dorian read and Amariel dozed until measured footsteps reached them. They both looked up as Cullen appeared at the top of the stairs with Alistair a few steps behind, and though his Commander mask of calm was firmly in place, Amariel saw a storm of emotions trapped in his eyes.

* * *

 _You are a talented, powerful, dashing, witty, caring, beautifully special snowflake, and I wouldn't trade My Dorian for the world, I would never ask My Dorian to change…You've always been My Dorian…and you always will._

The scene Cullen had accidentally stumbled across when coming to visit Amariel swirled at the front of his mind, unforgiving. The two had been too engrossed in their conversation to hear him coming, and before he'd reached their line of vision he'd looked through the bars of the railing and caught sight of them. Amariel had held Dorian's face so tenderly, kept in such close proximity to him…Cullen's throat had constricted, his stomach suddenly feeling hallow and cold as he quickly retreated, trying to leave while their words and closeness burned at the front of his mind. The entire time he just kept thinking _I knew there was something between them_. He could only harshly berate himself for daring to hope that perhaps…

Out in the hall before Amariel's room, Cullen had nearly run into Alistair, which had been his undoing. Once Alistair had asked if he'd just come back from visiting Amariel and Cullen admitted he hadn't gone in there yet, he'd been left to give a weak excuse that he thought he might have forgotten something before Alistair stated it could probably wait—Amariel was still only awake for short periods of time right now, resting most of the time—and Cullen had been left with little choice than to return to the stairway.

Now, Cullen did his best to keep his composure as he approached the two, jealousy eating away inside of him at how she clung to the Tevinter mage. Still…her face seemed to light up when she saw Cullen, and she pulled away enough from Dorian that he pulled his arm away, and her own hands fell into her lap.

Had he read their moments together wrong? Was there maybe _more_ to her feelings, or was he only a friend to her? What, exactly, was between her and Dorian? What he'd seen made him think romance, and yet…

"Cullen! I was wondering when you'd make an appearance," Amariel said with a warm smile. "I'm running out of things to do up here…do you think I could get some of the reports of stuff I've missed to read? I really don't want to resort to reading that trade agreement Josephine struck with the merchant princes to entertain myself."

Cullen smiled, and he hoped she couldn't tell it was somewhat forced considering the war going on inside his head. "I'm sure I can find some things for you to look at."

Concern flickered in Amariel's eyes, and Cullen cursed inwardly—she'd noticed. However, she didn't call him on it, switching to a different topic. "I'm trying to convince Alistair or Dorian to help me sneak out to at least walk around the gardens, but they won't have it right now," Amariel sighed.

"Not until you're better—you're still sleeping most of the time and hardly have enough strength to move around in bed," Alistair chided her, taking his usual seat on the couch.

Dorian suddenly jumped. "Fasta vas! Woman! Quit touching me with your feet, they're freezing!" he exclaimed, and Amariel blushed.

"I'm sorry! I'm cold, your warm…" she trailed off, her blush spreading. Dorian sighed.

"I'm fine with you cuddling for warmth, but those feet…perhaps try thicker socks? Socks made of wool? Or socks at all, for that matter!"

Amariel mumbled something under her breath as she cuddled close to Dorian like she'd done previously. Whatever it was, Dorian suddenly turned and grinned at her. "What was that? I don't think I heard correctly."

Amariel glared at Dorian, but repeated her statement. "I prefer to go barefooted most of the time, it feels more comfortable…"

"Not in winter or up in the mountains, it doesn't, you crazy elf."

"Mean…but warm…mage," Amariel muttered, clinging to Dorian once more.

"Well maybe if you weren't acting like a heathen when it comes to your clothing choices I wouldn't have to be mean," Dorian retorted, turning back to his book while Amariel clung to him. Amariel shifted, and Dorian yelped again, glaring at her. The elven woman only smiled, snuggling a little closer and holding him tighter. Cullen felt his jealousy spike but bit it back, looking elsewhere and searching for the best excuse to leave even though he'd hardly said anything to her.

Dorian's eyes flickered towards Cullen, who was resolutely not looking at them, and he shifted. "You know, Amariel, if you keep clinging to me like this people are going to start thinking the wrong thing," Dorian told her casually, though Cullen stiffened, eyes snapping back to the pair.

Amariel pouted, eyes closed as she buried closer. "If I want to cuddle with a friend for warmth, I'm going to cuddle with my friend, rumors be damned. We can both laugh about how far from the truth any rumors about the Inquisitor and her Tevinter accomplice are," she muttered grumpily.

Just like that, the guilt hit Cullen full forth, and it took everything in his power not to blush with shame, especially under Dorian's knowing gaze. Nervously, Cullen rubbed his neck. "Well, I can see about getting another blanket and find those reports for you to read. I'm glad that you're feeling better, Inquisitor."

Amariel opened her eyes and sat up once more, frowning. "But you just got here!" she said, her disappointment clear.

"I know, but…I really was only coming by to check on you," Cullen said sheepishly, now feeling guilty about disappointing her as well. "I can't stay long, I'm supposed to talk to Leliana about some scouts…"

Amariel nodded in understanding, sinking back into the bed. "All right, I get that…take care, Cullen," she said with a sigh.

"You too, Inquisitor," Cullen told her softly, making his exit as casually as he could. Once he was away from everyone's prying eyes he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and leaning against the wall, eyes closed.

 _Damn it, Cullen...you should know better than to jump to conclusions so quickly. You must have seemed like a complete fool._

And yet…despite the claim of just friends, Cullen still wondered if she did feel more for Dorian. He couldn't get the tenderness she'd held the mages face and kissed his forehead with out of his mind. It bothered him. Was he really competing for her affections with Dorian?

Cullen shook himself. No, even if he was…he couldn't have her…it wasn't possible. She was the Inquisitor, and he her Commander…

Wrestling to lock his emotions away, Cullen straightened and continued on to do what he was supposed to at the moment and get Amariel the blanket and reports he'd promised.

* * *

A few hours after Cullen's visit, he was surprised when Dorian suddenly entered his office, managing to catch Cullen in the middle of a lull in activity. He carried a weathered box in his hands, and he had a determined expression on his face.

"All right, Commander, put up those reports and follow me—I have a proposition for you I think you may be interested in," Dorian commanded, placing the box in front of Cullen with an audible _thunk_.

Cullen's eyebrows rose and he straightened. "Why do I _not_ like the sound of that?" Cullen said with a sigh, placing his hands on his sword pommel.

Dorian leaned forward on Cullen's desk, meeting his gaze with a challenging look in his eyes. "I'm challenging you to a chess match—a little birdie happened to mention you play. I'd like to see just how good you are."

Cullen's eyes narrowed slightly as he studied Dorian. "Why do I have the feeling there's more to it than that?"

"Because there is," Dorian retorted, placing his fingertips on the top of the box. "If you play me, we'll also have a charming conversation about the nature of my relationship with our Inquisitor."

Cullen stiffened slightly. "And what makes you think I want to know?"

"Oh, don't play coy with me, Commander, you were practically green with envy in her room, I'm not blind! Whatever suspicions or conclusions you've cooked up, I guarantee they're wrong."

Cullen folded his arms over his chest. "So why don't you just explain now?"

"Because what's the fun in that?"

Cullen debated for a moment, trying not to show just how badly he wanted to finally have the truth between what exactly was between Dorian and Amariel. He didn't want Dorian to catch on to that.

"All right, fine—but I can guarantee you won't win," Cullen finally relented, letting his arms drop away as he stepped around the desk. Dorian brightened.

"I wouldn't be so sure, Commander, I'm rather good at this game myself," Dorian said with a smug smile.

"We'll see," was all Cullen offered in response, allowing the mage to sweep up the box and lead the way.

Dorian brought them to the gardens, setting the box down at the small table situated in the gazebo, complete with two chairs. "So, who starts?" Dorian asked as he took a seat, flipping open the box and starting to set up the pieces.

"You can start, since you'll lose in the end anyway," Cullen stated with a smirk, sitting down as well.

"So confident. I look forward to beating you, Commander," Dorian chuckled. Cullen rolled his eyes and waited for his turn. For a few moments there was only silence between them, the only noise the soft tap of pieces being placed on the board, soft voices wafting through the garden, and the occasional bird. After a few minutes of this silence, Cullen wondered if Dorian would ever broach the subject he'd promised to discuss, not wanting to bring it up himself and seem overly eager.

Eventually, his restraint was rewarded, and Dorian cut right to the chase, for once not dancing around the bush with jests and witticisms.

"You are right about one thing Commander, Amariel and I are close," Dorian said suddenly, instantly gaining Cullen's attention, though he dared not raise his eyes from the board. "However, not in the way you think."

"By all means, tell me what I'm missing," Cullen said as casually as he could, moving one of his pieces with a steady hand.

"We're friends—she's probably my only true friend, too. It will never be anything more, and hopefully never less," Dorian explained gently.

"You two seem to act like it's more," Cullen replied evenly, still avoiding looking up. He failed to do so when Dorian suddenly laughed, and Cullen looked up in surprise.

"Well, I do admit, we're both very flirtatious people, but we're comfortable around one another. She knows things about me others don't, and I…well, the only reason I'm privy to her secret is because I was there. I know she wouldn't tell me if I hadn't been there, though, and I don't hold it against her," Dorian started to explain, moving his own piece. His smile had disappeared as he spoke of secrets, brow furrowed in thought.

"Redcliffe?" Cullen guessed. Dorian's eyes flickered up to Cullen, something flickering in his gaze. "I remember how she was after Haven. I assumed something had happened that wasn't in the report, but it was clear she didn't want to talk about it— _still_ doesn't want to talk about it."

Dorian nodded. "Yes, well…I can see why she wouldn't want to…that doesn't mean she shouldn't," he murmured quietly before he shook his head, watching Cullen move his piece. "However, that's not where I'm going with this. Whatever man comes to possess Amariel's heart will be a lucky man indeed. She's a fine woman, amazing above all others, and I will arguably be the first to say so. As to why there will never be more between us other than a close friendship…"

Dorian leaned forward, carefully moving his piece with measured movements as he spoke. "Women, while fine creatures...are not for me."

Cullen frowned, about to ask him to elaborate before what he was saying clicked in his head, and he simply sat there staring at the Tevinter mage for a few moments. Once his brain finished processing that, he suddenly felt very, very foolish, and had to begin fighting a blush.

"Oh…" was all he could manage to say, the confusing relationship Amariel seemed to have with Dorian now making more sense the longer he thought about it.

Dorian noticed Cullen's reaction and laughed, leaning back in his chair while he waited for Cullen to make his own move. "I'm sure that crucial piece of the puzzle was what you needed, wasn't it, Commander?" Dorian asked with a twinkle in his eyes before he shifted to seriousness again. "She is dear to me, and has a special place in my heart, but not in the way you so clearly thought earlier today."

Now he couldn't hold back his embarrassed blush. "I'm sorry, I…should not have jumped to any conclusions," he haltingly apologized, moving his piece.

Dorian waved a hand dismissively. "It was inevitable, considering you were missing that small but vital piece of information. I figured I should tell you before any other wrong assumptions were made."

Cullen nodded, studying the board as Dorian moved. "Thank you for clearing that up."

Dorian sighed. "There's no need to be so stiff, Commander. I'm not a fool. You care for her, no matter how much you try—and fail, might I add—to hide it."

Cullen immediately began to air on the side of caution, sitting back in his chair. "What makes you say that?"

Dorian gave him a look that let Cullen know Dorian thought that a stupid question. "Do you really want me to answer that, Commander? I can pick out anything from any day, especially recently. Not much escapes my notice when it comes to Amariel."

Cullen said nothing, deciding silence was his best option at the moment. Dorian held up his hands in surrender. "Very well, we won't go there. Back to the game." He chuckled. "You're both so damn stubborn."

Something squirmed nervously in Cullen's chest at his words, and he had to resist glancing back up. Both? Had…had Dorian had similar conversations with Amariel about Cullen? Did he dare to think they had?

Cullen bit back the question, instead allowing himself to relax a little more around Dorian—something that was easier now that he knew that Dorian and Amariel were in no way romantically involved—and focus on the game.

When he didn't allow his mind to wander to thoughts of the Inquisitor.

* * *

The joy Amariel felt when she was finally allowed to roam the gardens of Skyhold and leave her room was immeasurable, so much so she had no complaints about the requirement that she have an escort at all times, especially since her escort would be Alistair. Cullen's visits gradually grew…more frequent, and longer than the brief ones she was so used to. Usually he simply stayed nearby, willing to tend to whatever she needed or mentioned she wanted. It was sweet of him, and warmed her inside. Seeing him every day…well…that alone was enough to lift her spirits, and she looked forward to each of his visits.

When Cullen wasn't around, and when Alistair was asleep or otherwise preoccupied, Amariel read the reports her advisors had of what had been happening in her absence. The nobles they'd decided to send someone to watch were apparently trying to come up with some political entity to oppose them, but they were being ignored as much as they ignored the Inquisition's presence—at least they got some trading partners out of it. Sera's information was looking like it would prove fruitful, though Cullen had sworn Amariel to silence so Sera would not know he thought the future gain headed their way was impressive from a simple march. Lastly, they now had underground tunnels for their spy network to run, and apparently Leliana's people had found some dwarven artifacts that fetched them a fair price with traders. Not a bad batch of reports, all in all. She was overjoyed to hear that once he'd arrived, Dorian had told them of her desire to aid in Frederic's dragon research, so they had done so while she slept and already had results, those results being a translated manuscript that pre-dated the First Blight. Not bad at all. Also, specialists had been called while she slept for her to add another skill to her arsenal of talents—though she was forbidden from actually practicing in any fields yet, as she was still recovering. After some discussion with Alistair, he agreed to give her a way to contact Aurora in the hopes that perhaps she might have something that could help them—and also so he could get her a warning about Corypheus. No doubt with the power Corypheus held over the Wardens Alistair was worried about how his wife was fairing. On top of that she had Josephine send a delegation to Orzammar when she heard that King Bhelen had declared his support for the Inquisition upon hearing an ancient Darkspawn was threatening Thedas, and the advisors had suggested something be done to improve morale in the Approach. Amariel could see Cullen itching to roll his eyes, smack his forehead—something along those lines—as he repeated Leliana's suggestion the men receive comfortable shoes and Josephine's suggestion they be given a small library. He'd been rather insistent that she listen to his suggestion—a good meal at the end of the day, a simple comfort that went a long way with a soldier. She was quick to agree—she couldn't argue with his logic. Out in the field she'd rather have a good meal over a book to read or a pair of shoes herself.

Now she walked casually with Alistair by her side, arm and arm with her Grey Warden friend and swapping stories. He easily spoke with her about his time during the Blight, trading funny stories of his other companions, giving some dirt on Leliana Amariel was all too happy to hear since when she'd asked Leliana for stories she'd been told to go read a book for a story, and even getting plenty of stories about Aurora. The woman was quickly becoming a role model of sorts for Amariel—she'd already looked up to the woman for her role in the Blight. Hearing Alistair speak of her, and so fondly with so much apparent love in his voice. Well…she was happy for them, and the romantic in her loved to hear the stories he told with such endearment.

"Well, what do we have here?" Alistair asked as he spotted something over in a corner of the gardens. Amariel looked over and was surprised to see Cullen and Dorian sitting together, Dorian relaxing languidly in his chair while Cullen leaned over the chess board between them in a relaxed but thoughtful pose.

"Cullen, without a report in hand, relaxed, and playing a game? Alistair, did we really wake up this morning or is one of us dreaming right now?" Amariel whispered conspiratorially. Alistair suppressed a laugh, but his smile was evident.

"I _think_ we woke up. I might have to check that again…perhaps we should investigate this rare event and figure out what's going on," Alistair replied without missing a beat.

"What's one more imbalance in the laws of nature?" Amariel asked with a grin. The two approached, and almost instantly the competitive banter was evident between the two.

"Gloat all you like, I have this one," Cullen said confidently, studying the board with a small half-smile on his face.

"Are you…sassing me, Commander? I didn't know you had it in you!" Dorian ribbed, his impish smile dancing across his features.

"Why do I even—" Cullen started to say as he moved a piece, though he quickly cut off when he noticed Amariel and Alistair approaching, the piece clattering from his fingers as he hurried to stand, though to do what, Amariel wasn't quite sure. "Inquisitor!"

Dorian's eyes flickered between the hovering commander and Amariel, amusement clear in his eyes. Cullen seemed to have realized he didn't know what he was standing for, but knew he wanted to, stuck in between returning to his seat and rising all the way for no reason. "Leaving, are you? Does this mean I win?" Dorian asked slyly, eyebrows raised in question. Cullen carefully took his seat again, pulling his eyes away from Amariel with some apparent effort.

"Are you two playing nice?" Amariel asked with a grin, enjoying watching them verbally spar.

"I'm _always_ nice," Dorian said smugly, giving her a lopsided grin before returning his attention to Cullen and moving his piece as well. "You need to come to terms with my inevitable victory. You'll feel much better."

Cullen practically puffed with pride, almost like a conquering—well, lion—examining it's pride lands. "Really? Because I just won, and I feel fine!"

Dorian shook his head at Cullen's grin, rising to his feet. "Don't get smug—there will be no living with you," he said cheekily before he left the table. "Glad you're feeling better, Amariel," he commented before he passed, though he managed to get a wink at her in before he passed, heading back in the direction of his usual haunt in Skyhold's library.

"I should return to my duties as well…unless… _you_ would care for a game?" Cullen offered after Dorian left, a hand stretched invitingly over the board. His expression held hope in it that Amariel couldn't say no to, and she gave him a challenging smile.

"Prepare the board, Commander," she announced, gently disengaging her arm from Alistair's.

Alistair inclined his head as she pulled away. "I'll leave you to it, then. I'll be waiting whenever you're ready," Alistair told her before taking his leave to another part of the garden, hands clasped loosely behind his back as he walked away.

"As a child, I played this with my sister. She would get this stuck up grin whenever she one—which was _all the time_. My brother and I practiced for weeks. The look on her face the day I finally won…" Cullen told her as he set up the board and Amariel took a seat. She listened with interest, as this was the first time she'd heard him speak of his family. "Between serving with the Templars and the Inquisition, I haven't seen them in years. I wonder if she…still plays…" Cullen stated thoughtfully, his voice trailing off as he lost himself in memories of his childhood.

"You have siblings?" Amariel asked curiously. Cullen nodded.

"Two sisters and a brother."

"Where are they now?" she asked, making her first move.

"They moved to South Reach after the Blight. I do not write to them as often as I should," Cullen admitted sheepishly before he glanced down at the board. "Ah, it's my turn…"

Amariel smiled at him, allowing the subject to end for now. "All right, let's see what you've got…" she challenged, waiting for him to make his next move.

A few turns passed in comfortable silence, with both of them trying equally—as far as Amariel was aware—to win the game. She was tempted to cheat simply to mess with him, but had decided to play fair simply to gauge how well he played. Maybe next time she'd cheat to mess with him.

Eventually, Cullen spoke. "You know, the thought occurs to me that while you've heard some of my life before the Inquisition, I know nothing of yours, beyond the fact you're from the Lavellan Dalish clan in the Free Marches area," Cullen said matter-of-factly. Amariel gave him a half smile.

"What is there to say? I've lead a very…ordinary life—for a Dalish—until this Corypheus business. I guess…I'm an only child, and I became a hunter in my clan at a young age. It wasn't long before I became a respected protector and provider for my clan. Still…I spent most of my time alone…especially in the forest, when we came near it…" Amariel let out a sigh, staring off into the distance as her mind wandered back to those days in the forest. "I liked to pick a spot high in the trees and simply sit and listen to the forest around me, watch the birds and halla, rams…all sorts of creatures passed me by. I even came face to face with a few big cats—I was close enough to a panther once to pet it, though I didn't dare touch it, of course. She didn't bother me so long as I didn't bother her, even though we were on branches that ran side by side."

Amariel glanced down, just long enough to move her piece before she was lost in thought again. "If I was very quiet and listened very carefully…I swear I could hear a music in those woods. The very trees seemed to have this soft song all their own. It didn't need music to be beautiful, just the wind and the sounds that filled the silence…" Amariel suddenly blushed, realizing how foolish she must have sounded. "I never told anyone, of course…it sounds foolish and I can only imagine what they would have said."

Cullen shook his head. "I don't think it sounds foolish at all. It sounds…heavenly. I kind of wish I could hear the music you're speaking of myself."

Amariel smiled, her blushing increasing at the compliment. "There's nothing to say that you can't, if you try."

"Then I suppose I'll have to make an attempt the next time I find myself in a forest," Cullen mused. The silence returned for a few moments, and again Cullen was the one to break it. "You and Warden Alistair seem to be growing closer," he commented, taking one of her pieces.

"Mm…unavoidable, with all the time we've been spending together as of late. I also find him…very relatable. And I love listening to his stories. It's also not that hard to get him talking about Aurora, and the romantic in me loves listening to him talk about her. At risk of sounding sappy, he's smitten and it's endearing. Once he relaxes around you, he's wonderful company—he has plenty of witty remarks just begging to be set loose," she chuckled.

Cullen smiled at her, and in that moment Amariel marveled at how…relaxed she was, here with him in this very moment. She felt her defenses had completely fallen, and she opened up to him so readily regarding her thoughts and feelings. Then again, they'd been warming up to such an openness for a while, now. How many times had they spoken to each other, taken the time to breath with one another? How many times in Haven alone had they spoken by the training grounds? How many times had he managed to pry something from her, and she from him? Now…she found herself instinctively tuning out the world as she focused only on him and the game they played, some of the sounds of the birds and the rustling of plants in the wind reaching her ears but beyond that, only his voice…

"It seems you get along with everyone you meet, Inquisitor. A talent of yours, it would appear, despite your history as a loner."

Amariel returned his smile. "Compassion and patience does wonders and opens many doors."

"Indeed."

Their game continued, with the back and forth between the two continuing on as they made small talk and pried a little deeper into one another's personal lives. Cullen even asked a few questions about the Dalish culture, and she could see a genuine curiosity, a true want to know more brought on from the way she'd spoken of them. It was amazing to feel so…free from the world in that moment, and she wanted it to last as long as possible.

Eventually, Cullen commented on the moment they were sharing.

"This may be the longest we've gone without discussing the Inquisition—or related matters. To be honest, I appreciate the distraction," Cullen admitted, glancing up at her for a few moments while he waited for her to make her move.

"We should spend more time together," Amariel proposed timidly as she moved her piece. She did love these moments with Cullen, where she could forget everything else and simply be at ease, feel comfortable and safe…

Cullen looked up in surprise, but it was a good kind of surprised, an expression gracing his face that made Amariel's heart flutter. "I would _like_ that…"

"Me, too," she admitted before she could catch what those words implied. Before she could regret it, though, Cullen's expression softened, something much more…vulnerable than she'd seen in a while peeking through to the surface.

"You said that…" he whispered, and Amariel blinked, catching his gaze. They simply held each other speechless and motionless for a few moments, and Amariel found herself wondering if he felt the pull she did, like she'd felt at Haven, though not _as_ urgently as it had been then. Still, the pull urged her to things she'd never said, never done. However, Cullen managed to gather his wits, speaking haltingly but with that same unguarded tone, a softness in his voice that made Amariel tingle. "We should…finish our game, right? My turn?"

Amariel still hadn't retained her power of speech, so she simply nodded and watched as he moved his piece on the board.

Eventually—and much to Amariel's surprise—she won the game, and Cullen leaned back with a smile on his face.

"I believe this one is yours. Well played. We shall have to try again sometime."

"Indeed. This was fun. Whenever you're feeling up to another game, I'll be willing to play—especially while I'm still on bedrest. The activity is much appreciated," Amariel told him with a warm smile. "For now…I think I should go retrieve Alistair. I think he's paced this garden over a hundred times waiting for us."

Cullen stood quickly, offering her his arm and pulling her to her feet. "I'll keep your offer in mind. Get your rest, Inquisitor—the sooner you recover, the better," Cullen told her gently, and Amariel's smile warmed even more, touched by his concern.

"I'll do my best," she promised. In the next moment she was handed off to Alistair, and the pair returned to her room for the day while Cullen returned to his duties elsewhere in Skyhold.

* * *

The crescent moon was high in a sky with only a few wispy clouds to occasionally block its light as Alistair stood on the balcony of Amariel's room, as had become custom for him. Inside, the fire still crackled in the fireplace, full of life still as Alistair had been tending to it. The glow from the fireplace illuminated Amariel's sleeping figure on the bed, and Alistair had to admit the couch was calling his name right now.

It was surprisingly comfortable for a couch. Then again, anything was better than sleeping on the cold, hard ground.

As had become custom, Alistair took some time to himself after Amariel had fallen asleep to cast his thoughts to his wife, and while he did reminisce upon his memory of her, he also wondered how her search for a cure was faring. He hoped she'd found something, and if not, he was certain that eventually, she would. If anyone could find a cure to the Calling, it would be his beloved, and if she didn't…well, he'd be perfectly content going down to the Deep Roads with her, whether his Calling had arrived as well or not.

It wasn't hard for Alistair to pick up on the sudden whimper inside considering how quiet it was, and as soon as he heard it he turned, making his way back inside to see Amariel starting to shift uncomfortably in bed. He crossed the room to her side almost noiselessly, mostly thanks to a lack of armor as he'd taken it all off in preparation for bed. Amariel tossed more, the distress starting to twist across her face. Alistair gently touched her arm, deciding to wake her up now and try to get her the usual poultice before the dream got too bad.

"Amariel," he said in the tone that usually woke her up, giving her a light shake. For once, she did not stir, and Alistair frowned, shaking her a little harder. "Amariel."

Again, the woman did not react. She only tossed more, more audible sounds of distress starting to come from her. Alistair placed his hands on both shoulders, shaking her firmly. "Amariel!"

No reaction.

Whatever nightmare she was trapped in, he could not reach her. Feeling useless and helpless for a moment, Alistair stood and made his way over to the fire to prepare her poultice just in case he could get the woman to wake. While he moved about the room, Amariel's distress grew, hands clenching in the sheets, whimpers escaping her, and a cold sweat breaking out. Alistair tried a few more times to wake her, but nothing worked, and he was forced to retreat to simply waiting for her to awake on her own. He watched her anxiously from the fireplace, powerless to do anything as he watched her nightmare worsen.

" _No!_ " she suddenly shouted in a gut-wrenching plea full of raw agony as she sat bolt upright in bed, tears flowing freely down her face just as quickly as if she'd been crying the whole time. Alistair himself jumped and swore, having not expected such a sudden and violent action from Amariel. In the next heartbeat, or perhaps in the same moment but processed by his mind after the rest, Amariel's mark flared to life, and she hunched over with a cry of pain, gripping her arm to her chest so tightly her fingers started to turn white.

Once he recovered from the initial shock, Alistair quickly returned to her bedside as the woman started to sob between gasps of pain, biting her lip so hard he worried she was drawing blood. Alistair sat beside her on the bed, putting an arm around her in comfort and guiding her into a hug. She trembled violently, her hand continuing to spark and shake while the tears ran down her face. He was left to wonder if the tears were from her nightmare, the pain, or both, and what could have possibly caused such an event. He knew he wasn't going to get an answer out of her anytime soon, however, and instead contented himself with holding her close and trying to comfort her.

He didn't know how long they stayed like that. He did know that the fire was dying by the time Amariel's hand stopped causing her pain and she simply turned into Alistair's tunic and allowed herself to weep heavily, her grip on her hand slackening as the mark faded and all she was left with was an ache and a nightmare. Apparently, the nightmare was still fresh, and it hurt more than the mark had. She offered him no explanation—she simply cried and sought out his comfort, the closest source she had in that moment.

Slowly, her sobs died down, though with it her consciousness was waning, and Alistair's brow furrowed in concern. "Just stay awake a little longer," he murmured. "I'll get you the poultice so you'll sleep easier."

She only sniffled and shifted slightly in response, the tears still coming but not as dominating as they had been. Alistair bit his lip, carefully disengaging from her—much to her half-asleep protest and after several tries to pry her arms off of him—just long enough to get her poultice.

"Drink this, then I'll stay here and you can rest," Alistair promised her, pressing the small bowl to her lips. She initially rejected him, her glazed expression showing him that she wasn't entirely awake, or was so exhausted and distraught she wasn't really functioning correctly. After several attempts, however, he managed to convince her to drink the poultice, and he sat the bowl aside as soon as she was done. "Good…now, get your sleep. There won't be any more nightmares, I promise," Alistair told her softly, allowing her to sag against him. He ached to ask what her nightmare had been, what had she dreamt of that caused this reaction, but he knew it would be of no use to bring up right now—Amariel was in no shape to answer, and despite the fact she radiated fear and despair she was quickly slipping to unconsciousness.

And once she was awake tomorrow, well, the last thing she would want to do would be bring up a nightmare. Alistair had tried to broach the topic of what her nightmares contained before, but he received no answers. According to Dorian, she never said what was in her nightmares. She'd told Dorian once or twice what the subject of her nightmare was, but never what was _in_ it.

Whatever it was…it was apparently putting her through Hell.

* * *

"Are you feeling better, today?"

Alistair and Amariel walked along the battlements together the morning after her chess game with Cullen, Amariel gazing out over the view of the mountains. She repressed the memories of the worst nightmare she'd had yet that rose at his question, trying not to think of the blade, the blood, the sounds of a man slowly dying, the agonized amber eyes…

While she'd slept better, the nightmare haunted her in her waking hours, and she couldn't shake the vivid images that were burned into her brain. But she really didn't feel like talking about her nightmare, so as it was shoved into the dark corner of her heart she was keeping carefully guarded she gave Alistair a gentle smile.

"I'm better rested now. Thank you for insisting I get more sleep—I needed it," she told him sincerely.

"You did," Alistair agreed, pausing when Amariel stopped and leaned against one of the stone merlons of the battlement, still looking out over the mountains. She breathed in the mountain air, a small smile gracing her lips. Alistair must have seen that she was enjoying herself because he didn't complain, and when she opened her eyes he was leaning against the merlon beside her. Amariel worked her bottom lip between her teeth, then decided to speak.

"So…I'm going to let my curiosity get the better of me for a moment," Amariel stated, turning to face him completely. Alistair's eyebrows rose.

"Well this should be interesting," he mused with a half smile. "Whatever it is, so long as it's not the news Skyhold's suffering from a cheese shortage, I can take it."

Amariel chuckled, grateful for the tension breaker despite the fact she felt odd going from jokes about cheese to asking such a thing. "There's a rumor I've heard that I'm…quite curious about."

"Oh, the rumors, there are plenty of those. No, Leliana and my wife are not an item—I've heard that one far too many times to count," Alistair said with a sigh, shaking his head.

"Ah, no, not that one…I didn't even know that was a rumor. You'd think they'd come up with a rumor a little more believable," Amariel pondered before she shook her head. "But that's not the rumor I'm curious about. I've heard that you were up for the throne of Ferelden."

The twinkle in Alistair's eyes faded, a frown falling across his face. "Oh…that one…" he said softly before he straightened, turning to lean back against the merlon beside her. "If it was anyone else asking, I would deny it, but, as I've come to regard you as a friend and I respect you…the truth. Yes, I was."

Amariel's eyebrows rose in surprise, her head tilting to the side. "How is that? Doesn't one have to be a noble first to be up for a throne?"

"Yes, they do, and I actually have a stronger claim than Anora. You see…" Alistair said awkwardly, rubbing his neck like Cullen would sometimes do. "King Merric was my father. You're looking at his bastard heir."

Well, she hadn't been expecting _that_. And it raised far more questions that immediately started to rise in her mind.

"If you're the rightful heir, then why aren't you King of Ferelden? Why let Anora remain in power?" Amariel asked curiously. Alistair sighed heavily, folding his arms over his chest.

"I never wanted the throne, to start, and I knew nothing of how to rule a country. And yes, I know there are advisors for that sort of thing, but it wasn't for me. And then…" Alistair sighed again, though this time there was a sadness in his voice at the thought of what could have been. Not the longing kind of sadness—one that acknowledged something tragic that could have been. "If I was king, I would not have been able to be with Aurora. We would have been parted forever. Wardens…can't have children together, which meant there would be no heir to the throne, and Ferelden was in no way ready for an elven woman to become queen, especially someone from an alienage. We would have been torn apart, and after everything we went through to stay together…it was something neither of us wanted to even consider."

"Which is why Aurora announced Anora as Queen instead of choosing you to rule," Amariel finished.

Alistair nodded. "We talked about it many times leading up to the Landsmeet. She wanted to crown me king, I could tell even if she hadn't told me beforehand. But she knew how I felt about it, and she knew what that would mean for us…so, for once…we allowed ourselves to do the selfish thing instead of the dutiful thing."

Amariel reached over and put a hand on his shoulder, catching his gaze. "I don't think it sounds selfish at all. That sounds like a different kind of brave to me, to be able to say no to a comfortable life in exchange for a happier life. And I like you just the way you are now, Alistair, royal blood or no. I'm glad that you and Aurora were able to stay together, as well," Amariel told him gently. After a few moments, she added a little more. "And for what it's worth, I think you would have made a great king."

Alistair smiled, relaxing his pent-up posture. "Aurora said the same thing—that I would have made a great king. Sometimes I do wonder what it would have been like, and if I would have been brave enough to throw all caution to the wind and take Aurora as my wife anyway as King…but I've been happier than I could have ever imagined with Aurora, and I wouldn't trade that for all of Thedas."

"You are both very lucky to have one another," she told him, returning his smile. A few minutes passed where they simply stood there in comfortable silence before Amariel spoke again, and of something completely different. "So, what's this I've heard about Dorian throwing me a party in the tavern later tonight?"

Alistair chuckled. "I believe, since you're recovered enough to be out and about now, Dorian, Varric, and The Iron Bull have all worked together to put on a small party to celebrate your recovery."

"Considering the three people you just mentioned, it will definitely not be small, and there will probably be a lot of alcohol."

"At least you've been told in advance so that you have time to prepare for whatever craziness may occur."

"Touché."

Amariel and Alistair lingered on the battlements for quite some time, watching troops train and swapping even more stories before dusk arrived. At that point they made their way back, so Amariel could change into something a little more comfortable and warmer that she wouldn't mind getting alcohol on if somebody should spill something around her.

Mostly everyone was there—Vivienne and Solas were missing, Vivienne probably feeling too good for a party in a tavern and Solas probably preoccupied with his work. Amariel didn't particularly like Vivienne, now that she'd been around the woman more, so she wasn't going to complain about her absence. Someone had managed to pull Cullen away from his work, so he was there, drink in hand but mostly observing. The Chargers were hard to miss considering their rowdy presence, and where the Chargers were, so was Iron Bull. Sera flitted around the room with an impish smile on her face that let Amariel know she'd already set some pranks into motion and Amariel would have to be on guard. Blackwall sat by the fire with Cassandra looking rather content, and Hawke and Varric were talking at a table of her own, and Dorian sat alone at the bar. As always, Maryden was singing her songs, though she was hard to hear over all the noise as everyone chatted comfortably. Amariel spotted Cole lingering in the shadows near the back wall, Leliana sat with Josephine at their own table, the two wearing secretive smiles and whispering to one another with the occasional giggle.

Almost as soon as she walked in and was spotted by Dorian, she found herself being pulled along by the Tevinter to the bar. "Inquisitor, you're finally here! Before you do _anything_ I want you to have a taste of _real_ wine!" he announced, sitting her down and wasting no time in pouring her a glass.

"Cutting right to the chase, are we, Dorian? So long as no one tries whisking me away if you succeed in getting me drunk," Amariel stated with a laugh, taking the cup while Alistair sat beside her, getting a whiskey from the bartender.

"Bas, good to see you're feeling better!" Iron Bull boomed as he passed, slapping her back hard enough she accidentally inhaled some of her first drink of wine, erupting into a fit of coughing.

"Thanks, Bull," she managed to wheeze, giving Dorian an apologetic look. "Sorry, it seems the first sip effect has been ruined…though it does taste good even when it's inhaled!"

"I can settle for that," Dorian sighed, taking a sip from his own cup. Amariel relaxed in her seat, turning around so she could face the room.

"You know, it's nice to see…mostly…everyone here finding some time to breathe away from their work," Amariel commented.

"Yes, and it will be nice to see you relax a little yourself, Inquisitor. Remember, it's a party, and one thrown just for you," Dorian told her pointedly as he stood up.

"Going so soon?" she asked, eyebrows raised.

"I just won a bet—Varric owes me money now," Dorian said with a grin before walking away. Amariel laughed and turned to Alistair.

"I hope for his sake Varric forgets Dorian owes him money, though he probably won't," she snickered. "Money changes hands between them faster than secrets in Leliana's network."

"I wouldn't doubt it," Alistair chuckled.

Amariel sighed, standing up. "Okay, now that we have drinks it's time to be sociable and make the rounds," Amariel said, popping her neck.

"Don't start any riots," Alistair warned with a smile.

"No promises."

* * *

As Amariel wandered off to talk to the others, Alistair found himself joined by Cullen, who took the seat Amariel had been in a few moments ago.

"How is she, today?" Cullen asked quietly, setting his drink aside. Cullen had actually visited earlier in the day, and had been surprised to find she was asleep at a time she was usually awake. Alistair had explained she'd had a hard time sleeping due to nightmares, and Cullen's concern had been obvious when Alistair mentioned that said nightmares were common but not normally so bad.

"Better, now that she's had her sleep," Alistair told him.

"Did she ever say what her nightmare was about?"

"No, and she probably won't. She never has before, according to Dorian."

Cullen sighed, watching Amariel as she spoke with Leliana and Josephine, laughing at something the other two had said. "Well…I guess what matters is that she's feeling better now."

"She seems like it, anyway," Alistair said absentmindedly, watching as Cole seemed to follow Amariel from the shadows. He wondered if perhaps the young man was being drawn to her by a hurt the rest of them couldn't see. "She's a little more…absentminded and pensive today than most, but that's all."

Alistair shook his head, turning back to Cullen. "However, Commander, it's a party, and I believe there are much happier subjects to discuss."

Cullen laughed rather sheepishly. "I suppose you're right."

* * *

The night quickly became one of ease and comfort for Amariel, and she spent enough time with everyone to get to know them better and hear how they were all doing currently. It was refreshing to see everyone, including her advisors, so at ease and not buried in their duties. There were many stories traded, and Amariel even relented to causing some mischief with Sera before she headed back to the bar, in need of another drink. The only ones there were Dorian, who was pouring himself another drink, and Cullen and Alistair, who were talking easily—a sight Amariel liked to see, considering how uncomfortable Cullen had been at the mention of before they'd even brought him to Skyhold.

"I'm glad to see you two are staying out of trouble," Amariel commented, swiping the bottle from Dorian to pour herself more wine. Cullen laughed—a rare sound from him, and one to be treasured.

"I'm sorry we can't say the same for you," he mused while she poured her drink.

"I'd like that back when you're done with it, if there's even any left," Dorian protested, making Amariel laugh.

"Perish the thought! Besides, I'm not nearly as much of a drunk as you," Amariel said with a wink, gaining a laugh from Alistair and Cullen at the comment.

"I'll remember that when you're staggering drunk and I can still walk in a straight line."

"Are you saying you can hold your liquor better than me? I'll accept that challenge," Amariel grinned, raising her glass. "To whoever holds their own against the drinks tonight!"

"I can drink to that, if we add in ten silver for whoever wins."

"Deal," Amariel giggled.

"I thought it was just Varric and Dorian involved in the betting economy?" Alistair commented slyly.

"What, I'm not allowed to have fun now and then?" Amariel asked with a coy smile before turning around to return to the bustle of the room.

She nearly had a heart attack when she found herself face to face with Cole, jumping as a hand flew to her heart. She opened her mouth to say something, but Cole beat her to it.

"Hurting, hiding behind the glass of wine and lighter conversations. The secret trauma from Redcliffe. A shadow of his former self, broken, faded, dying, held desperately close. Slow words to a bleeding heart _. The perfect way to die._ The accusation of another. _None of this is real to you—It_ is _real to me_. And the dreams…hands coated in blood, grasping tightly, as tight as they can, but slipping away the tighter they try to hold. Right there, but powerless to do anything, to ease the slow agony, to stop death. I can't, I can't, I cannot bear this again, don't let me _lose_ him again. Haven, the dragon, the fire, hand pulsing in agony, the flaming arrow—I'm sorry, Cullen. Darkness."

She didn't know when the glass slipped from her fingers, when it shattered against the floor, when she gasped Cole's name in shock. She just knew he'd laid her deepest fear and dark secret bare, and right in front of Cullen as well. He'd ripped the fresh wound from last night's nightmare right open, and the other nightmares as well. She felt like she couldn't breathe, unsure if she was in pain, shocked, embarrassed, or horrified, unsure what wound her heart was trying to communicate to her mind. The three men around her—Dorian, Cullen, and Alistair—were utterly silent, and while all this rushed through her mind, the glass was falling, and as it shattered, so had the happy mood she'd tried so hard to conjure for everyone.

Cole seemed to realize he'd done something wrong, but he also was too blissfully innocent to know what part of what he'd done was wrong. "No, I pulled too hard trying to get it all said, I tore it…I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause more pain. I've been trying to help so long, but I haven't been able to, and now there's so many different hurts tangled together in a knot…"

"I…" Amariel managed to say, taking an unsteady step away from Cole towards the stairs. "I need air," she finally managed to force out, hurrying over to the stairway and climbing up to the third floor and exiting the top back door to the battlements, where she rushed to the very edge, braced herself by her elbows against the stone merlon in front of her, and put a hand to her mouth as if it could hold back the sobs that were rising to the surface as fast as her nightmare from last night blazed to the front of her mind.

 _Cullen's hand hesitantly brushed against Amariel's where it rested on her hart's neck before she left the camp her, Cullen, and some of the Inquisition's soldiers had set up. She looked at him, startled, but she didn't pull away. "I just…promise me you'll be safe? I don't like the thought of you out here alone, and ever since Leliana rooted out that spy among our people…I don't want to see anything bad happen to you."_

" _Cullen…" Amariel said quietly, turning to face him. "I'm always careful, and I know what I'm doing. I'll be all right, you have my word."_

" _That doesn't comfort me as much as I would like it to," Cullen sighed. Amariel's gaze softened, and she moved to try and comfort him a little more before a brisk voice interrupted their moment._

" _Commander, report for you," a soldier said, coming to stand before him. Cullen turned away from Amariel, and she from him, so she missed what initially happened. However, when Cullen gasped in pain and surprise, she whipped around, blood running cold to see the soldier had stabbed him in the gut while handing the report to him and was just now pulling out the blade to move on to her._

 _Another spy._

" _Cullen!" Amariel cried out, reaching to her throwing knives at her side and threw one into the soldier's neck with well-practiced ease. While the soldier fell to the ground, Amariel rushed to Cullen's side as he doubled over, hand pressed to the wound to staunch the bleeding._

 _They had no medic—some soldiers had been hurt while scouting and couldn't be moved, so the medic had left to tend to the soldiers and wouldn't be returning any time. They had no mages who knew healing magic either. It was just them._

 _Cullen sank to his knees as Amariel reached his side, helping him lie down as his face twisted in pain, his hands already covered in dark red, his clothes starting to be stained as well…_

" _No, no, no, you can't do this to me, not again," Amariel whimpered, putting a hand over his helplessly and cupping the side of his face in her other hand. Cullen's breaths came out in short gasps of pain, body shuddering. "Stay with me, Cullen!"_

 _Cullen's agonized eyes fixated on her at her words, and he reached up to tenderly brush her cheek with his fingers, leaving a smear of his blood on her face in the process—it was everywhere, coming fast enough to suggest the soldier had hit an artery or something else that held a lot of blood._

" _Amariel…" he whispered between hitching breaths, the sound coming off choked. "Amariel…"_

" _You can't, Cullen, stay with me, hold on," Amariel pled, holding him tighter in an effort to keep him there with her. His pained eyes burned her soul, and as she pulled him to her it only felt like he was slipping further away, a feeling that caused her to hold him tighter in vain. Her tears were falling on his face, and instead of holding her hand to his wound she found her hand in his, squeezing it with all the strength she possessed. "Please don't leave me, I can't go through this again, I can't lose you!"_

" _Amariel…" he whispered again, hand growing lax in hers, his agonized eyes slowly dulling, voice trailing off. "Know…I…"_

"Amariel…"

Amariel stiffened as Cullen spoke behind her, too emotionally distraught to really recognize how she felt about hearing him here on the battlements with her. She did register that this was the first time she'd heard him call her by name—not counting the future him in Redcliffe. If she hadn't been in so much pain at the moment she might have been touched or overjoyed to hear her name come from his lips.

Unfortunately, the sound was also hesitant, guarded…unsure. What he must think of her right now…

Amariel hunched over slightly, letting her hand drop so that her arms were folded over each other and turning her head away from where his voice came from. She said nothing even as the tears continued to fall. What was she supposed to say, to do, in this situation?

* * *

Cullen stood indecisively a few paces behind Amariel, taking in her shuddering shoulders as she turned away from him. She was so…vulnerable and broken, even when he couldn't yet see her face. Part of him felt like he should leave her alone, let her have her time to herself to try and regain some sense of stability. Yet, another part of him, a much more dominant part at the moment, could not leave, especially not after what he'd heard from Cole, something he was obviously never meant to hear.

It was hard to understand Cole's fragmented way of speaking, especially when it was someone else's mind he was peering into, but Cullen had gathered enough to know that this pain Cole had dug up involved him.

Cullen carefully approached her, coming to a stop just behind her on her left. Now that he was here…he had no idea what to say. What did one say in a situation like this? Of course she wasn't okay, of course she didn't want to talk about it, asking her to tell him felt like intruding…

Carefully, Cullen placed a hand on her shoulder, keeping his touch as gentle as possible and remaining ready to pull back if she showed she didn't want the contact.

"I'm…" he said slowly, still struggling for words. "I'm here if you need anything," he finally finished.

Amariel was quiet for several moments, though he could hear her uneven breathing as she tried to control tears, face still turned away so he couldn't see her crying. She still did not dismiss him, though she didn't speak, leaving Cullen to simply stand there feeling helpless with his hand on her shoulder while she tried to cry silently.

"I thought…you'd be asking questions. You must have plenty." Amariel spoke haltingly and out of nowhere, but Cullen wasn't about to complain.

"I do," Cullen admitted, "but I'm not about to push you to talk about something you clearly don't want to."

Amariel shook her head, though she was still careful to keep her face away from him. "That's not true. I want to talk about it sometimes, and I really should, but I also don't have it in me to bring it up. It hurts too much to think about—I can't imagine trying to speak about it…"

"Amariel, if it's hurting you this much, then maybe you should talk about it," Cullen said seriously.

Amariel was quiet for a few more minutes before she spoke again. "I…I don't know if I can bring myself to tell you."

"It doesn't have to be me," Cullen assured her. To his surprise, she turned to look at him intently, revealing her tear-soaked face, watery eyes, and trembling lip. He'd never seen her so openly damaged, and it made his heart crack.

"Yes, it does," she said much firmer than she felt. The pain was tangible in her eyes in the moments before she turn her gaze away, hunching over to curl into herself while still leaning against the battlement's merlon, fingers grasping her arms so tightly they were white. She looked up at the moon, eyes closed and obviously trying to get some control of herself. Cullen turned to face her entirely, searching her pained expression while it was still visible to him before she turned away again.

"I'm here now…and we're alone. Now's as good a time as any," he said gently. He saw her lip tremble again from the effort of holding back sobs, and she looked down, eyes still closed. Then, very slowly and in a voice so vulnerable and broken the words she spoke were like knives cutting at his flesh, she began to speak.

"When Dorian and I went into the future at Redcliffe…we saw more than I put in the report," she said slowly, and Cullen had to move a little closer because of how low her voice was. It didn't escape his notice that the tears were already falling quickly from her eyes, and he wanted nothing more than to wipe them away. However, he kept his hands to himself and let her speak, focusing on her words, yearning to know what had plagued her for so long now.

"The cells below Redcliffe…there was someone else down there." Amariel's voice cracked, and she took a moment, trying to control herself once more as several sobs wracked her body, a few bursting past her lips before she managed to rein them back in. Cullen couldn't help but reach over once more and put his hand on her shoulder blade, gently rubbing her back in comfort while his brows furrowed in concern.

"Who was it?" he asked softly when it was obvious she was going to need some prodding to continue. Amariel's grasp on her arms tightened, nails digging in hard enough Cullen worried she might hurt herself and draw blood.

"You…" she whispered in a ragged voice, and Cullen froze in shock. "You were down there, too."

The silence lingered between them, both of them tense—Cullen from shock and Amariel from fear of how he would react—before Cullen managed to find his voice, reluctant to truly have an answer to his question.

"What happened?"

Amariel hiccupped another pained sob while her chest felt as if it was clenching just as it was being stabbed by one of her blades. She didn't bother to wipe away her tears—they were about to get worse anyway. "You were…" She halted, shaking her head. "I…Dorian managed to get the cell open, and I managed to wake you up, but…"

Amariel had to pause, taking a moment to gather herself as she started to cry even harder, struggling to get her words out now, the raw pain of this particular wound etched into every feature she possessed. "You'd been through s-so much, a-and you were…you…fading so quickly, and…"

It was like something had suddenly possessed her, and Amariel quickly turned to face him, throwing her arms around him before he could even process what she was doing. Amariel clung to him desperately, one arm winding around his middle while the other wrapped up his back and clung to his shoulder, burring her face in his mantle as she openly wept out the rest of her story.

"You died! There was n-nothing I c-could do, and I-I…" her grip on him tightened as she spoke, Cullen suddenly becoming her physical support as well as she went weak in the knees. Once that happened, Cullen wrapped his arms around her lower back, supporting her against him while she shook from the intensity of her tears. "You d-died in my a-arms and there w-w-was nothing I cou-could do abou-about it, I s-saw the l-light leave y-your eyes…"

Amariel managed to bury deeper into his embrace. "A-and p-please don't say it w-wasn't real o-or didn't h-happen, because it did! I was there it was r-real, I lived it. If it w-wasn't f-for Dorian I'd s-still be in that c-cell because I _couldn't leave_!"

Cullen held Amariel tightly without a word of complaint, supporting her entirely while he reeled and processed what she was saying.

She'd seen him in that dark future, and had held him while he died. His death was the source of her nightmares, why she had been so distraught upon her return, why she'd cried by the lake, why, sometimes, when she looked at him she had flickers of pain in her gaze. Maker, how many times had she looked at him and been reminded of what she'd experienced at Redcliffe, how many times had she seen the dying man in the cell?

Andraste have mercy on him, the first thing he'd done was yell at her when she returned. He'd _yelled_ at her, after she'd seen him die and it had destroyed her.

At the same time…the thought of losing him was what she was afraid of. _Him,_ specifically. He was no fool, and he knew the deeper feelings that entailed.

Cullen wrapped his arms more securely around Amariel as he came back to reality, holding her as close as he dared and allowing her to cry as much as she needed to, her small frame trembling from her mighty sobs.

"You won't lose me, Amariel," Cullen promised after a few moments in an attempt to comfort her, resting his head on the top of hers. Amariel nuzzled a little closer, and Cullen felt his heart melt, though he could tell that she felt utterly drained now. He waited until she'd cried herself out, gently rubbing her back and pulling back enough to wipe the remaining tear tracks from her face.

"You're exhausted, Amariel…let's get you back to your room," Cullen told her gently. Amariel kept her eyes closed, nodding slowly and leaning into him for support.

"That's…probably best," she murmured, resting her head on his shoulder as he started to guide her along the battlements back towards the castle. When they ran into one of the guards Cullen sent them to tell Alistair that Cullen was taking Amariel back to her room so the man wouldn't spend time looking for her, cursing in his head as he realized the soldiers were probably going to talk considering the sight the two presented. He didn't falter, however, and guided her all the way to her room. Once there she only took the time to take off her boots before she snuggled under the blankets in her silk shirt and soft leather pants. He found it odd she didn't undo her hair when she went to bed, wondering if she had any pins in it that poked her while she slept, and if so, how she could sleep like that.

Pushing the idle thoughts aside, Cullen tucked the blankets close around her. "I hope you get to feeling better, Amariel," he murmured, hand lingering where her arm was under the blankets.

Amariel smiled softly, head turning in his direction and fixing him with her sleepy gaze. "You've never said my name before…" she said softly. "You should more often…it sounds beautiful when you say it."

Cullen carefully brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. "It's the perfect name for a beautiful woman…" he replied just as quietly before he stood. "Go ahead and get your sleep. We can hold down the fort while you rest."

Before he could get very far, he felt her hand suddenly grasp his wrist in a surprisingly strong grip. When he turned, her eyes were a little clearer and held an obvious plea. "Stay…please?"

The vulnerability was back, and Cullen wondered if she was afraid of having more of her nightmares or if she just didn't want him to go yet. Either way, he returned to her side, taking a seat on her bed. "I'll stay as long as I can," he promised.

Amariel smiled, letting her hand drop away and closing her eyes once more. "Good...that's good…thank you…"

"Anything you ever need…I'll be here," he responded, watching as she gradually fell into a restful sleep.


	10. Chapter 10: Matters Of Love and War

_**Sorry, this chapter took a while because A) My attention span is getting worse, and B) I was very happily writing away at Aurora/Alistair's story and then reminded myself I need to keep up with this story (As much as there are aspects of Aurora/Alistair's story I want to write before they're spoiled in here)**_

 _ **Soooo here's chapter ten :D Much more romance oriented than the rest...I'm hoping to get back to the action in the next chapter or so.**_

 _ **PLEASE REVIEW!**_

 _ **Enjoy!**_

* * *

The next morning, Amariel didn't immediately get up. She lay in bed, eyes closed to reject reality for a while longer so she had time to think. She knew she wasn't alone, as Alistair _was_ her constant bodyguard, and she needed time to think about what had happened last night.

She had always imagined that Cullen would react badly if he ever found out about what had happened at Redcliffe, though after last night, she wondered how she could ever think that of him. He'd held her without a single word of complaint as she'd cried over what she'd seen happen to him in that dark future. He'd been so gentle and understanding, had made sure she'd been taken care of…

He'd called her by her name.

 _Fingers brushing her face oh so lightly, treating her like a precious glass work of art. It wasn't skin on skin because of the leather that covered the hands she knew were cold, but she didn't care. Cold or not, they were his hands, and that was what mattered. And as he so tenderly touched her face, he called her beautiful, entranced by the moment, his guard lowered…_

She needed to see him again. After last night…how she felt about him had to be obvious, and with what she'd seen in his eyes as he'd gazed at her, even when she was so vulnerable and wounded…perhaps he felt the same.

She needed to know. She needed to see him. Today—right now, even. Last night had changed everything, and she had to know what that change meant for them.

Amariel stirred, letting her eyes flutter open as she stretched her legs and yawned, ankles popping softly as she rolled them experimentally. The shuffle of leather boots against the ground and the familiar chink of the Grey Warden armor reached Amariel's ears and she glanced over to see Alistair approaching her, looking as if he'd already been awake for several hours.

"And so she awakens—I was beginning to worry you might have been captured by a sloth demon and we'd have to do some Fade-walking to wrestle you free," Alistair stated with a smile.

Amariel chuckled, glancing around the room. There was a pot hanging over the fire to keep something warm—most likely her meal—and there was enough light streaming into the room she knew she hadn't awakened as day was waxing and the light was still pale like she usually did. "What time is it?" she murmured, stretching her arms. Alistair chuckled at her sleepy motions, answering her as she sat up in bed.

"About midday—I was beginning to think you'd sleep through the entire day," Alistair commented.

"And no one thought to wake me?" she asked, eyebrows arched in questions. Alistair shrugged.

"You haven't slept so long and so well in a while—we decided to let you have your rest."

"We? Who's come by to see me?" Amariel asked curiously, holding her breath expectantly.

"The usual. Dorian left not too long before you woke up, and Cullen's been by a few times to check on you. He wanted to know when you woke," Alistair said casually, though Amariel saw him watching for her reaction. She did her best to remain composed, swinging around to sit on the edge of the bed and frowning when she realized she was still dressed in the soft long sleeve shirt and white trousers she'd worn last night

"Oh…I should probably go see him then, once I'm decent," she stated, rising to her feet. "How's everyone else?"

Alistair chuckled. "Mostly fighting hangovers—I believe the Bull had the Chargers beating the alcohol out of each other," Alistair laughed. "You missed that."

Amariel snickered. "I'm sorry I did," she stated, fishing out a change of clothes—the red silk shirt with the white leather booths and gloves, grey leather pants, light brown bodice, and white silk scarf. She loved that outfit, she'd wear it all the time if she could. She slipped into the room that also housed the ladder that went up to her indoor balcony where her bathtub was stashed, closing the door and starting to change. She heard Alistair pacing slowly around the room before he spoke again.

"Do you want me to accompany you…or do you wish to speak to the Commander alone? I'm sure I could bother Dorian for a while until you're finished if that's the case," Alistair called casually, though Amariel narrowed her eyes in the direction of his voice from the other side of the door. At least said door was protecting her from him seeing the blush creeping into her cheeks.

"I, ah…think I'll go alone for this conversation. I'll be going to see about setting up sparring grounds in some of that unused space in the Skyhold courtyards afterwards. I could meet you where the requisition officer usually stays hidden," she replied just as casually.

"Sounds like a plan," Alistair returned, and Amariel walked out of the room fixing her silk scarf around her neck and fidgeting with her leather gloves. Alistair gave her a knowing smile as they made their way down the stairs together, though when they came to where he needed to go up a stairwell and she needed to continue through a door to the outside, he waved in parting. "Good luck, Amariel," he stated slyly before he disappeared, and Amariel was left to wonder if he really could see through her and knew exactly what it was she was planning to do. Amariel shook her head free of the thought, pushing forward and saying hello to Solas in passing before she pushed her way through his study and out to the bridge that led right to the tower Cullen had set up his office. She found her heart hammering and her palms sweating as she approached the door, the tower looking truly imposing to her for the first time and doing nothing to ease her nerves.

Amariel closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and remembering the feel of Cullen's arms wrapped comfortingly around her as she'd cried, his voice soothing as his breath whispered against her sensitive ear, and his hands steady and gentle as they brushed the hair from her face. Straightening, she put her hand on the door handle and pushed it open.

"Bull used every shield in the armory for this?" she heard Cullen say in incredulity as she stepped inside, her curiosity immediately piqued as she shut the door behind her as softly as she could.

"He said it was a training exercise," the female messenger replied haltingly. Amariel gave her a sympathetic smile once she recognized her. Why was it everyone in the Inquisition always gave her the _interesting_ reports and messages to deliver? The poor girl never got a normal one, always the odd or controversial. "Should I tell him not to do it again?"

Cullen chuckled, shaking his head. "No…have him tell me next time. I want to see if _that_ would work. I don't know why I'm bothering…" he added to himself, trailing off as his gaze wandered to see Amariel standing patiently by the door.

As the color rose within Cullen's cheeks, Amariel blushed as well, though she did her best to get it back under control. "Inquisitor," he said, his voice containing a mix of surprise, concern, nervous curiosity, and undertones of a… _warmer_ emotion. The messenger left to leave the two alone, and Cullen came around to stand beside his desk instead of behind it. "How…how are you feeling?" he asked. He seemed to be having as much trouble looking at her without blushing as Amariel was having.

"Much better now…thank you," Amariel managed to say, her fingers idly picking at each other as she clasped her hands together in front of her.

"Good…I'm glad," he said awkwardly before he pushed forward. "Was there something you needed?"

Amariel chewed on her bottom lip, trying to ignore how sweaty her palms were under the leather gloves and how tight her throat suddenly felt. By the lost Dales, why was this so hard? "I thought we could talk…alone," she managed to get out, glancing up to see the surprised expression on Cullen's face, as well as the anticipation.

"Alone?" he echoed skittishly before he cleared his throat. "I-I mean, of course," he amended, regaining some of his dignity. He straightened and gestured for her to walk with him, heading out the east door and along the battlements. The soldiers were thick along the front wall, so Cullen led her through one, two of the towers until they came to the angled corner wall right before the tall flight of stairs that led to the platform Alistair and Hawke had hid themselves on frequently before they'd gone to the ritual tower in the Western Approach. Here, there was no one, the breeze softly blew across her face, the sun high in the sky as a few birds flew by overhead. They made it to the third merlon, the large one where two converged into one because it was right at the angled corner, when Cullen spoke.

"It's a nice day," Cullen attempted with a nervous laugh at the end, rubbing his neck like he always did when he was nervous.

"What?" Amariel asked, caught off guard as she came to a stop and turned to face him. Sweet Mythal and Maker, she needed to pull herself together if she wanted to make it through this.

"It's…" Cullen attempted before he gave up, dropping his hand from his neck and looking at her curiously, head tilted to the side and eyes guarded. "There was something you wished to discuss?"

Amariel bit her lip again, trying to figure out how to broach the topic.

 _You've never said my name before…it sounds beautiful when you say it._

Amariel took a breath, deciding just to skip the beating around the bush and go right to the part they'd never get to if she didn't make the leap now. "Cullen…you know how I feel," she said softly, her voice coming out as guarded as his eyes, careful, but also with the timbers of the emotions she'd been trying to keep veiled for some time by now.

How could he not know? Especially after last night…

Cullen looked as if she'd confirmed his suspicions, his guarded expression falling slightly as he cast his gaze away towards the mountains. He looked out towards those mountains as he took a few more steps forward, towards the edge of the battlements as what seemed a thousand thoughts both calculated and instinctive flashed through those intense eyes of his.

"I…can't say I haven't wondered what it would be like," he said quietly. Carefully, Amariel came to stand directly across from him, leaning against the half-broken merlon they'd reached past the corner as she faced him. So…she hadn't read those looks, those lingering touches, those double meanings wrong—he felt it too, had thought about it, just as she had. She knew why she'd held back…why had he?

"What's stopping you?" she asked curiously. Cullen sighed, that world-weary sigh of his that hinted at all he'd seen and the caution with which he approached most things in the world.

"You're the Inquisitor, we're at war, and you…" Cullen paused, looking up to catch her gaze. Amariel sucked in a breath, caught off guard to see those amber eyes burning with the same worries she'd felt, his head dipping just slightly as he listed off the same reasons she'd told herself, one by one. His defenses were lowered more than she'd ever seen, and she could see his fear of rejection just as strongly as she felt her fear of rejection as he put himself out there. "I didn't think it was possible," he finished, voice pitched slightly lower as he took a step closer.

"And yet I'm still here," she told him, managing to hold his gaze.

 _You won't lose me, Amariel._

 _I'm not going anywhere,_ Amariel thought. She heard Cullen's breath catch slightly at her words, and he took another step closer. There wasn't much distance between them now, and…was that elderflower she smelled? And…oakmoss…something that instantly made her think of the forest, one of her favorite places. Both scents were wrapped together in a musk that was just his as he came closer, those intense eyes of amber softened as they held her gaze.

"So you are…" he murmured, hands reaching out to slowly settle on either side of Amariel as he closed just a little more distance between them. His breath blew softly on her lips as he spoke, and she felt her heartbeat pick up as she listened to his every word. "It seems too much to ask…but I want to…"

She didn't know if he'd trailed off or if she just couldn't hear him over the excited pounding of her heart, but he was right _there_ , and as he leaned in she could almost count each small hair of stubble gracing his jaw and chin before her eyes slowly started to close with his. He came so close she could feel his lips hovering just over her own, not quite making contact yet…

"Commander."

Their eyes both flew open as the moment shattered, and Cullen pulled back, but mostly froze in place, tense and holding his breath as he stared intently down at the stone battlement, brow furrowed as he hoped maybe, _maybe_ the owner of the voice would have some tact and realize he needed to _go far away_. Amariel let out a shaky breath as footsteps only came closer, her head doing an exasperated _of course_ circle once before coming to a stop so she was looking down at the ground. Her eyes were closed, and Cullen was still tense before her, still waiting in the hopes their intruder would _go away_ —

"You wanted a copy of Sister Leliana's report," the approaching, oblivious, marked for _death_ scout said as he continued to approach, staring down at a clipboard he held in hand. Cullen hung his head slightly and let out a long breath as he very reluctantly pulled away, turning to the scout with teeth grinding together and shoulders tense.

"What!" he growled, eyes hardening from what had been a warm liquid amber to what seemed as solid and sharp as the stone.

The scout continued, still oblivious as he approached, looking up at the Commander at last. "Sister Leliana's report. You said you wanted it delivered… _without delay_ ," he said pointedly.

Cullen said nothing, only approached the scout with a narrowed glare that silenced the rowdiest of underlings out of raw fear in a heartbeat, making himself as imposing as possible to strike extra fear into the heart of the scout that had dared to interrupt their moment when they had been _so close_ and it had been _so perfect_ …

The scout finally realized, at the death his Commander was trying to swiftly bring upon him with his eyes, that he had miss-stepped somehow, his gaze sliding from the angry gaze of the Commander, to the Inquisitor shuffling from one foot to the other while staring intently at the ground, and putting a hand to her face to try and hide the embarrassed blush, back to the Commander, to something upon the stairs…

"Or…to your office…" the scout said slowly, carefully backing away and crouched like a frightened nug preparing to flee for his life as he cowered under Cullen's glare. " _Right_ …"

Cullen kept his glare fixated on the scout until the poor man had disappeared back into the tower, giving a sharp nod of approval, his back still to Amariel. She bit her lip, wondering if their moment could possibly be salvaged now as she turned back to him.

"If you need to—" she started to say, but was cut off with a small, muffled sound of surprise as Cullen's hands slipped behind her neck and tilted her head up in the same instant his lips crashed against hers to salvage a moment he _would not_ let pass, a chance he _could not_ let slip by. Amariel's mind blanked from shock as his lips pressed against hers, capturing and holding her prisoner with all the confidence of a seasoned commander. He held the moment, breathing her in with his lips still pressed firmly against her currently unresponsive ones. Finally, her mind caught up with what was going on and she relaxed, her hands coming to rest gently on his sides as she kissed him back, returning the pressure before he drew away to make it last longer, leaning into him as she realized this was really happening. The kiss slowed, lips lingering against each other before Cullen slowly let his hands trail from the back of the top of her neck down to her forearms. They pulled away, and as soon as Cullen had taken a breath he was apologizing sheepishly.

"I'm sorry! That was…um…really nice," he finished with a small smile, gazing at her with those eyes, so open but hesitant as he awaited her reaction, still standing close enough all she could smell was his special musk and it would only take a little bit of a lean and a tip upwards of her head to kiss him once more. Amariel managed to catch her breath, meeting his gaze as she managed to find words, a small smile tugging the corners of her lips upwards.

"I _believe_ that was a kiss," she said breathlessly. "But I can't be sure, it's…all a blur."

Cullen laughed softly at the teasing but inviting smirk she gave him, relaxing fully as her reaction assured him that yes, this was happening, she wanted this as much as he did, and she was not running in the opposite direction. "Yes, well…" he chuckled before leaning in again, much slower and softer this time.

This one was sweeter, savored, and probably what the kiss would have been had the scout not interrupted. But Amariel didn't mind—what mattered to her was that it had happened, _was_ happening, and that it wasn't some dream she'd wake from at any given moment. Cullen held her close to him with such tenderness, and she gently let her hand raise to rest on his arm to return the partial embrace he held her in. His stubble scratched lightly against her skin, and a soft, happy sigh slipped past her lips before Cullen pulled away again.

"I should…probably go get that report," he admitted quietly, gaze still fixated on her. Amariel gave him a gentle smile.

"If you wanted it _without delay_ , you probably should," Amariel teased lightly, getting a chuckle from him before she sobered. "I…wanted to thank you, for last night…I've been carrying that around for far too long."

Cullen made sure he held her gaze, hands resting on her forearms as he commanded her attention before he even spoke. "We will win this war, Amariel…and I'm not going anywhere." Amariel ducked her head, giving a slight nod as she swallowed down months of nightmares. Cullen tipped her chin back up with gentle fingers, pulling her attention back to him. "If you ever need to talk about anything, I'm always willing to listen."

Amariel nodded, giving him another smile. "I'll remember that," she promised, then nodded in the direction of his office. "Go on, I'm sure you have plenty to do—Alistair's probably waiting for me with the requisition officer."

"Then I'll see you again later?" Cullen asked, starting to tear himself away. Amariel nodded.

"Later," she confirmed. Cullen smiled, then made his way back along the battlements while Amariel turned in the other direction to head for the nearest set of stairs down to Skyhold's courtyard.

* * *

 _Alistair reached out and grabbed the mage by the back of the shirt before he could continue down the stairs, pulling him back. "Wait!"_

 _Dorian cursed as he stumbled on the stairs, looking back at Alistair with a glare. "What?" Alistair tugged him back again, nodding just ahead of them to draw Dorian's attention to the pair that was steadily getting closer in answer. Dorian broke out into a grin when his eyes fell upon the Commander and the Inquisitor._

" _It's about time!"_

" _Shh!" Alistair reprimanded him, tugging him back up the stairs again. "Come on, let them have their privacy."_

" _Uh-oh…looks like Jim's about to walk into a bear trap," Dorian suddenly commented, drawing Alistair's eye to the scout that was interrupting the couple a hair's breath away from a kiss. Maker, the scout wasn't even paying attention—even Alistair had enough tact to turn heel and run instead of continue to interrupt such a moment. As Cullen rounded on the scout and Amariel tried to hide a growing blush, Alistair could feel how awkward and tense the moment was nearly at the top of the staircase they were at._

" _Run, Jim, Run! Before you end up lion lunch!" Dorian hissed in amusement, making a wide run for it gesture with his arm. The scout seemed to catch the movement, and when he glanced up towards them Dorian jabbed a finger pointedly in the other direction. Behind him, Alistair mimed Cullen strangling the life out of the scout if he didn't leave_ immediately _._

 _The scout seemed to get the message, slowly backing away before he hurried into the tower. Alistair grabbed Dorian's arm and forcibly tugged him the other way as Cullen turned back to Amariel. "Come_ on _, Dorian, I'm sure they'd like some privacy!"_

" _And he still kissed her," Dorian crowed happily before he finally willingly joined Alistair in heading in the opposite direction. "It's about time," he repeated._

* * *

Alistair straightened where he was leaning against the wall outside of the requisition officer's office, turning his attention to the mage who was practicing some sort of fire spell he'd read about somewhere. "By the way, Dorian, I believe you owe me a little silver," he stated with a smirk.

"Vishante kaffas," the mage cursed under his breath, pausing in what he was doing to fish the wagered coin out of his pocket and shove it into Alistair's waiting hand. "Fine, but you won't win every bet, my Warden friend," Dorian chided.

"What bet did Alistair win?"

Both men looked up at the new voice as Amariel approached with eyebrows raised pointedly. Dorian grinned unrepentantly. "Have a thing for strapping young Templars, I see," Dorian said with a sly grin.

"What's this about?" Amariel asked, taken aback and confused by the sudden switch even as her cheeks turned pink. Alistair elbowed Dorian in the side, but the mage only laughed.

"Oh, nothing. Just something I find rather adorable about you," he mused. Amariel rolled her eyes and made it to the door, about to open it when Dorian spoke again. "So…was there tongue?"

"Maker's breath!" Alistair exclaimed while Amariel whipped around.

"Were you _spying_ on me?" she asked in shock. Dorian tsked.

"Not _spying_ , my dear, we can't help it if we just happen to stroll right into your moment in a not-so-private place. Really, anyone could just walk in on you at any given moment on the _battlements_." Dorian pursed his lips. "Speaking of, I wonder if Jim's still going to have his head when the Commander returns…"

Amariel was blushing a deeper red than Leliana's hair had been during the Blight, so Alistair did his best to rescue her from the embarrassment. "For Andraste's sake, Dorian, let the poor woman have some privacy."

Dorian rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine, I'll leave it alone…but just so I'm not implicated as the only intruder, Alistair was there to. And you really should pick your private spots better."

Alistair blushed slightly and scowled at the mage, but Amariel was quite eager to move on by then, quickly pushing into the requisition officer's office to end the conversation before it could go much farther.

* * *

They spent a decent amount of the day helping to set up the sparring ring. Amariel had insisted because it helped her feel like she was getting something done. Now, to help with the sense of productivity, Amariel called a war meeting to make sure the Inquisition didn't fall behind because of her recovery.

Adamant had waited too long because of her. Alistair had been gracious enough not to bring it up, but she could see it on his face sometimes, and Hawke's too the few times she's passed the woman while out and about. Hopefully she would have her strength back completely soon, and by then she wanted their plan to already be in place so they could leave as soon as she was capable.

Considering she was going to be talking about Adamant, as Amariel entered the War Room it was with Alistair at her side, and a messenger had run off to find Hawke and tell her in case she wanted to be here when they planned the attack.

Cullen straightened and flashed her a smile as she entered, one she bashfully returned as she stepped up to the table littered with markers. Mythal have mercy, it had been a while since she was in here. She would have missed it if there hadn't been so many markers reminding her just how much she had to do.

"All right…It's been a while. Reports?" Amariel asked, warily eyeing the mass of markers before her. Leliana smiled just slightly, though Josephine was the first to report.

"Our emissaries have returned from Orzammar. They have pledged to our cause some of the most formidable warriors from the legion of the dead. According to the King, they are veteran darkspawn hunters. Absolutely fearless. The King also graciously offered to share Orzammar's wealth: he recognizes the threat Corypheus poses," Josephine said, scribbling a few notes on her ever-present clipboard.

"I'm glad to hear it, Josephine," Amariel said with a slight nod before her attention was caught by Cullen.

"Knight-Captain Rylen sends gratitude for the new cook in the Western Approach, and says that morale has improved greatly, Inquisitor," Cullen reported.

Leliana sniffed. "I still think they could have used some new shoes…"

Cullen and Amariel shared a smile, though Amariel bit the smile down as fast as she could and turned to Leliana. Beside her, she saw Alistair straighten slightly in anticipation. "Leliana?"

Leliana smiled slightly. "The Hero answered are messages and sent two letters to be delivered, as well as some goods from her travels that might be of use. The goods are in the blacksmith, and I have the letters here," Leliana stated, handing one scroll to Amariel and the other to Alistair, who took it like it was made of glass.

"Thank you, Leliana," Alistair said quietly before attempting to fade into the background again.

"Dorian brought up an interesting matter with me the other day. Most of the Tevinter magisters are not Venatori supporters, but they also will not raise a finger to prevent the Venatori from wreaking havoc here in the South. There are some, however, who see the cult for what it is, and are trying to expose it. A Magister contact in Qarinus by the name of Maevaris Tilani is attempting to introduce a law in the Imperial Senate which would see Venatori activity sharply curtailed in Tevinter. Dorian suggests that Quiet Inquisition support of Maevaris would be beneficial, and ultimately could drum up support from other magisters fearful of what Corypheus represents," Leliana said, already bringing up matters that were literally still on the table. "Tevinter is a land where secrets are weapons. Let us arm this magister against those who would oppose her vote."

"I have contacts in Tevinter, although, not many," Josephine cut in. "Still, trading a few favors could help this magister a great deal."

Amariel chewed slightly on her lip. She didn't like the thought of this possible ally being caught in a web of favors…and this magister knew her country more than they did. Perhaps it was best to give her the means and let her use it in her own arena as she saw fit. "Leliana," Amariel said simply, glancing up at the red-head.

"Of course, Inquisitor," Leliana said with a smile and a slight incline of her head. Before anyone could propose anything else, Amariel spoke up.

"Cassandra brought it to my attention the other day that the Seekers have practically vanished, and she believes something may have been done to them," Amariel said seriously.

"Someone must have seen the Seekers, or given them safe harbor," Josephine said simply. "Entice them with a reward, and leads will follow."

"Then I leave that in your hands, Josephine," Amariel said with a slight nod. Cullen chose that moment to speak up.

"We've received numerous requests for aid in dealing with the demons that sometimes remain from the closed rifts after wandering from the original area. There's quite a healthy stack on my desk right now. With your permission, our soldiers can do sweeps of areas formerly containing Fade rifts and eliminate any demons."

"Of course—a little more stability and a little less chaos is always welcome," Amariel returned. She sighed. "Now that we've handled that…Adamant."

Leliana and Josephine shared a look.

Amariel sighed, closing her eyes. "I don't like that look…why the look?"

"Well, Inquisitor," Josephine started diplomatically. Not a good sign. "Celene's Ball is fast approaching, and by now it is too soon—if we march on Adamant first, we will not make it back and reorganize in time to attend the ball."

"Fenharel's teeth," Amariel cursed under her breath.

"A ball? We're delaying dealing with a demon army threat for a ball?" Hawke spoke up in agitation from where she'd been leaning against the wall. Amariel shook her head, straightening.

"Not the ball so much as what Corypheus plans to do at the ball. There's going to be peace talks between Celene, Duke Gaspard, and Ambassador Briala…add in a few assassins and, well…how did Dorian put it? Orlais falls, the Imperium rises: chaos for everyone. All we know is that there's going to be an assassination attempt, and the best time would be during this ball. So, our presence is required so we can prevent Orlais from falling into chaos." Amariel sighed, looking out the window and mulling it over. "All right…we'll get ready to go to the ball, but I want to be preparing for the march on Adamat so we can get there as soon as possible—it's waited long enough while I've been recovering."

Cullen nodded. "I will work with Warden Alistair and Hawke in preparing the strategy to assault the keep," he said somberly. "As for the ball, might I ask how we plan to get in?"

"We have our way in," Josephine responded. "The real question is _where_ is our enemy hiding?"

Josephine turned her attention to Amariel. "This ball is being held at Duchess Florianne's insistence, and absolutely _everyone_ will be attending."

"But the assassin's will most likely be hiding in among one of the three factions involved in the peace talks," Leliana added. Hawke spoke up once more.

"Couln't you just warn the Empress that she's in danger?" Hawke asked with raised eyebrows.

"We tried," Amariel cut in. "Our messages never reached her. Someone—I'm betting the assassin—intercepted them."

"It's better that we don't leave this to chance. If Orlais falls to Corypheus, no land is safe," Cullen said shortly.

"Like I said—we'll go to the ball to keep Orlais from falling into chaos while we make preparations for Adamant. I'd also like a rundown on our three peace talkers so I know who I'm dealing with," Amariel said carefully, looking down at the war table before her. Cullen sighed.

"With Gaspard and Celene's armies entrenched, we cannot openly march troops to the palace," he said with a slight frown. Leliana came in with a solution rather quickly.

"My agents will ensure your soldiers get inside, but it must be a few at a time to avoid attention," Leliana assured him.

"Understood," Cullen said with a brisk nod.

"Then let's get started," Amariel stated once she was sure there was nothing else they were going to add.

Each of them broke apart into their own little groups at her words, Hawke immediately darting forward to catch Cullen and start talking about Adamant, Alistair discreetly slipping out with his wife's letter clutched tight in hand, Leliana not far behind him, and Josephine pulling Amariel aside before she too could leave.

"You know, Inquisitor, if you're to attend the Empress' ball, you must look the part," she said slyly. Amariel chuckled.

"Is this the part where you introduce me to dresses for the first time?"

"For the first time?" Josephine echoed in shock. "Oh, you poor thing! I'll have dresses made up right away, and we'll have a fitting to pick the best one."

"Nothing puffy like I've seen some of the Orlesians wearing, please? And it has to be something I can fight in if pressed."

Josephine pursed her lips, tapping her quill against her lips as she thought. "So it will be an elegant gown, sleek…perhaps a slit on one side or both halfway up the thigh? Hmm…it will take some thought, but I can make something work," Josephine said with excitement glittering in her eyes. Amariel laughed softly.

"I look forward to it," she told her graciously, feeling a twinge of disappointment when Hawke led Cullen elsewhere to talk about the siege. She could still see him later.

Turning to the letter in hand, Amariel left Josephine to her work and wandered off for a quiet place to read what Aurora Tabris had sent her.

* * *

Afterwards, Amariel returned to her room to try and get some time to think, knowing that the others currently had everything well in hand. Right now her job was to make a full recovery so that she could carry out the plans they came up with. She wasn't alone, however, as she saw that Alistair was perched carelessly on one of the outside balcony railings, head resting back against the stone with Aurora's letter still in one hand and a black feather being twirled absentmindedly in the other. She had to say, he seemed the most relaxed she'd seen him in all this time.

 _Please take care of him…I trust his compassion and his strength above any other's…_

While Aurora's words regarding Alistair flitted through her mind, Alistair spoke up, probably hearing her approach. "She might be onto something. There's danger, of course…but there's always danger," he said softly with a wistful, reminiscent smile as Aurora leaned against one of the stone pillars that framed the doorway. He looked over at her, his smile turning to that of gratitude. "Thank you for getting word. It's easier to put it out of your mind, to focus on the task at hand…but…hearing from her again…"

Alistair's eyes closed again, his grip tightening slightly on the letter as a small shudder went through him. "Maker's breath…but I do miss that woman."

… _and I would not go through such effort to overcome our Callings only to lose him to you Inquisition._

Amariel smiled at him. "She's pretty amazing. Apparently, she sent me some really good Warden Scout armor she didn't want, something about liking the armor she has…"

Alistair chuckled. "Her and that damn dragon scale armor Wade made her…she won't part with it. Though the fact it's still in amazing shape after all these years is a testament to how good it is. It better be good armor anyway…she paid twenty sovereigns for it."

Amariel chuckled. "Well, I can't wait to give it a test run. It's over there," she stated, gesturing to the bed. Alistair came back inside with her, putting away the letter and feather before inspecting the armor with an impressed gaze.

"Bloodstone, phoenix scales, dark samite…Maker, she passed on this? It's better than mine!" Alistair stated as he examined the black and red armor.

"She really loves that dragon armor," Amariel replied in amusement.

"Obviously," Alistair chuckled, setting the armor down as his expression sobered and a frown slipped into place on his lips. "There's been something I've been meaning to ask you…back at the ritual tower, you weren't surprised to hear that Corypheus was amassing a demon army—you had a bet with Dorian about it already. Then just now, in that war meeting, you know of this assassination plot but didn't mention how you knew. You knew there would be a demon army, you knew there would be an assassination attempt, nothing more and with no source, but you knew it without any doubt. How?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Amariel said with a sad smile, sitting down on the couch.

"Amariel, I've seen my wife turn into several different creatures while we were trapped in the Fade by a sloth demon. I've seen the Ashes of Andraste, though she doesn't know it I've seen Morrigan laugh and cry, and there's a bloody talking darkspawn magister who created a hole in the sky and is influencing the minds of Wardens to use blood magic and raise a demon army, to name a few—there's not really anything you can say at this point that will surprise me," Alistair said pointedly, folding his arms over his chest.

Amariel chuckled softly. "I suppose you have a point," she said with a sigh, shaking her head. "You know we had to go to Redcliffe to recruit the mages, right?"

Alistair nodded. "I've heard it mentioned a few times."

"While we were there, we found out the magister that was in charge, Alexius, had been trying to mess with time itself, and was making a little headway with it. He warped time to pull the mages out from under us, actually. When we went to confront him, he accidentally sent Dorian and myself a year into the future, roughly. It was 9:42 Dragon, and according to the future versions of my companions, Corypheus had assassinated Empress Celene and raised a demon army. Those were the two events they stressed, so we've been keeping our eyes peeled for a demon army and the chance to assassinate Celene. That's how we know."

Alistair took a moment to consider her words, slowly nodding. "It's…not what I would have expected…but with everything else going on, I'm not about to challenge it." Amariel relaxed and let out a sigh of relief. "So…you saw the future?"

Amariel's eyes darkened as she suppressed the swirl of negative emotions. "I saw a dark future of what could be if we fail. It's not exactly an experience I like to share."

"I can imagine," Alistair said quietly. The silence lingered for a few moments before Amariel stood and gathered up the armor lying on the bed to put it on the armor stand she had beside her dresser.

"So, I've been thinking of who I'm dragging with me to Celene's ball, and I was wondering if I could drag you with me."

Alistair snorted. "I don't think you want the secret bastard of Meric there. Might cause a few ruffled feathers."

"Oh, don't worry about that, it's sort of a theme with our group. Me, the Dalish elf Herald, the Tevinter mage, the Qunari mercenary, and the spirit of compassion manifested as human. You'll fit in just fine," she said with a wink. Alistair chuckled.

"You're just trying to indirectly step on their toes, aren't you?"

"I don't like politics."

"I've gathered. You and Aurora would get along splendidly."

"So, will you come?" Amariel asked, her expression pleading.

Alistair sighed, studying her for a moment before he relented. "All right, _fine_ , but if Anora's there you better be stepping up to the plate to spare me that awkwardness."

"If I'm around to stop it, deal," Amariel said with a bright smile. "Now…I'm going to go pester Solas for a while, probably get him talking about the Fade."

Alistair grimaced. "I'll just stay back here if you don't mind."

Amariel snickered, already moving to the staircase. "I thought you'd say that. I'll find you whenever I'm done visiting."

* * *

Once Amariel had left, Alistair retrieved the feather and letter once more, his eyes scanning the words on the scroll for the thousandth time. He glanced at the feather, her sign that everything was still all right and in control. If it had been dipped in blood Alistair would have left without a second thought to be at his wife's side, as she would need him to be if that was ever the case.

… _mage friend doing well…better control…grateful that you've both finally gotten to a place where you can trust each other as you once did…still a good man…_

Alistair skimmed over the paragraph about the mage that was currently accompanying his wife in her search for the cure. It put his mind at ease to know the mage's…situation was improving, though if he was being honest with himself his wife wouldn't tell him if there was an incident of some smaller degree, knowing Alistair would rush to her side if she mentioned such an occurrence.

… _damn cat keeps waking me up in the middle of the night, pawing my face for attention…_

Alistair snorted. He knew what that was like, having been woken similarly a few times mage's cat, though with claws in some instances. It was a beautiful creature, a blotched tabby of a dark, rusty orange and black with a few white splotches and pale blue eyes, but sometimes Alistair _swore_ it was a demon.

… _closer, and our lead might just bring us back east…_

Alistair wasn't sure if he was happy or worried about that part. If she came back east, he'd be able to see her again, maybe they could help the Inquisition of they still needed help at that point. But at the same time, if Corypheus was still a threat, he worried for her. He'd rather she was off alone with the mage than here with all the chaos regarding Corypheus and the Wardens.

… _miss you. Terribly. It's colder without you, and our friend is still depressed, so the mood is often somber. The time we're together again can't come soon enough. I pray for your safety, and to see you again soon—but not until your job there is done. Please, Alistair…be careful, and come home._

Alistair closed his eyes at her plea. He could feel the weight of more she wanted to say, the insecurities that she would only share in person and not on paper, and the fear that she would lose him too with everything going on. There'd been an argument over who their mage companion would go with, who would have the assistance to help keep safe, and Alistair had managed to win that one, the thought of Aurora with the mage giving him more peace of mind than unease.

He really had come far from when the mage had first joined the two of them.

Alistair sighed, leaning his head back and thinking of what would happen if Aurora's search really did lead her back to Thedas. Hopefully, they'd be reunited sooner rather than later.

* * *

Cullen made his way up the stairs to Amariel's room, his excuse—a rundown of the ideas he and Hawke had discussed for the assault on Adamant—clutched tight in hand.

That had been an…awkward meeting to say the least, though neither of them had discussed the obvious elephant in the room. The last time they'd seen each other had been in Kirkwall during all of the chaos her late friend Anders had caused by blowing up the Chantry.

Not exactly a topic one wanted to bring up, especially considering the rumors that despite Hawke being with Prince Sebastian, her and Anders had been…more. And Cullen had no kind things to say about the deceased mage, so they just ignored that awkwardness and kept focused on their work.

Cullen crested the stairway to her room, looking up from the scroll in hand to take in the scene before him.

Amariel and Alistair stood in the middle of the room, their right hands clasped together, one of Alistair's hands on her waist, and Amariel's hand on his shoulder. Vivienne stood off to the side, sharp eyes watching their every move as she guided the pair through a dance. Amariel was blushing profusely as she focused on her footwork, and Alistair looked like he was focusing on not stepping on the smaller woman in case she stepped wrong.

Realizing what was going on, Cullen cursed internally and tried to make a break for it before Vivienne noticed him, but it was too late.

"Cullen, darling, what a fortunate surprise," Vivienne said, voice pleased as she stepped forward. Cullen mouthed a few curses before he turned to face the enchanter with great reluctance, Amariel and Alistair pulling apart from their dance to turn and face him as well. Amariel met his gaze and blushed lightly, Alistair having the grace to pretend he didn't notice.

"Lady Vivienne," Cullen said as graciously as he could while he faced her, turning the scroll in his hand over a few times. "I don't mean to interrupt, I was going to go over a few things with the Inquisitor, but I can see that she is otherwise occupied so I'll just…"

"Nonsense," Vivienne stated, waving off his excuse like it was a cobweb. He was sad to see it go so easily. "I was just helping our darling Inquisitor prepare for the ball—she's never been to a formal dance such as this and needs to be ready for the Great Game. Now that you're here we can save time, as well—Josephine and I discussed brushing up on your dance skills."

Cullen scowled. "I think I can manage, Lady Vivienne."

"By standing on the sidelines and refusing every dance? I've been told of your strategy, my dear Commander, and I want you prepared for when that fails because of a determined noble who knows just how to get stubborn men like you on the dance floor," Vivienne said decisively, grabbing his arm before he could protest and dragging him over to where Amariel stood.

"Don't worry, she did the same thing to me," Alistair murmured once Cullen was close enough, before pitching his voice higher to imitate Vivienne. "I don't _care_ if you were taught how ten years ago, darling, that's _far_ too long, times have changed, and we need to brush up on any skill you had then for _now_."

Amariel chuckled, and thankfully Vivienne gave no sign that she'd heard, though Cullen was rather sure she had. Before Vivienne could force him into the awkward situation, however, Amariel spoke up. "Actually, Vivienne, I think now would be a good time for us to stop—if the Commander has a report on Adamant than it's something that we need to discuss now—I want our planning and preparations to be finished before we go to the ball. We'll need Alistair to weigh in as well."

She spoke so calmly, holding Vivienne's gaze with cool confidence and a look in her eyes that said she was not going to be swayed. Vivienne sighed. "All right, my dear, we can resume the lesson later. But Commander—we are going to spend time on your dance skills no matter what you say," Vivienne told Cullen pointedly before she swept gracefully out of the room. Cullen let out a sigh of relief as she disappeared, as did Amariel.

"You dodged a fire blast there, Commander," Alistair mused, stepping up to the pair. "So…what's this about plans for Adamant?"

Cullen blinked, momentarily forgetting about the report he held in his hand. "Oh…right…" he muttered reluctantly, turning back to the scroll in his hands as he made himself fall into a business mindset.

Alistair sat down with him and listened to what Hawke and Cullen were thinking of before he added his own comments, mentioning weaknesses and the layout of Adamant. With the information Alistair gave him, Cullen was able to adjust their plans accordingly and start thinking of some newer ideas. Amariel pitched in here and there to ask where her party would fit in, what they wanted her to do, and to remind them to account for several outcomes. Even though the need to plan for Adamant had been an excuse to come see Amariel, Cullen was pleased with the progress they were able to make. Once he smoothed out the finer details of the plans they'd come up with, they could start making preparations. He'd make sure that they were ready to march on Adamant as soon as possible after the ball, just like Amariel wanted.

As they finally wrapped up their planning, Alistair made some excuse about heading down to the tavern for a drink, giving them a subtle wink before he left. Cullen blushed lightly and looked over at Amariel.

"Does he…?" he asked, hoping that she understood what she was asking. To his surprise, Amariel blushed as well.

"He does…Dorian too. They, ah…were walking the battlements, but had more tact than Jim."

Cullen's blush deepened. "Maker's breath," he muttered, and Amariel laughed, moving over to lightly place a hand on his forearm. Cullen's heart fluttered at the comment, his previous embarrassment forgotten as she came close.

"At least this time…we really are alone," she said shyly, looking up at him from under her thick eyelashes. Cullen smiled, stepping closer himself.

"At least…" Cullen agreed. "So long as Vivienne doesn't come looking."

Amariel chuckled. "She can be rather persistent, can't she?" They were silent for a few moments, simply enjoying being close to one another before Amariel spoke up. "So…would this be the part where there's some awkwardness between us for a while as we figure out what exactly is going on with us?"

Cullen laughed softly under his breath, leaning forward, feeling the nerves as he searched for what he wanted to say dwindle. "Is that what we're doing, now? I'm glad one of us said something."

Amariel closed the distance to rest her forehead against his, giving him a gentle smile. "Well…now that it's out there…hopefully the awkward stage will go by a little faster."

Cullen took the opportunity to close the distance, pressing his lips to hers for the third time today. He felt a small shudder go through her as he kissed her slowly to savor the moment, and a small sigh escaped his lips. His hands slipped to her arms as he pulled her a little closer, and Amariel's hands slid up to his shoulders. Cullen felt Amariel's thumbs gently brushing against his neck a few times as she leaned against him, head tilted up to meet him with her shorter stature. The kiss continued like that for several moments before they finally pulled apart, and Amariel smiled up at him.

"That part…will never be awkward," she stated quietly.

"I should hope not," Cullen murmured in response.

"I'm assuming you have some time now, and this isn't just a brief visit," Amariel stated hopefully, her intense blue eyes studying him as she spoke. Cullen inclined his head.

"I could stay for a little while before anyone suspects anything."

Amariel's eyes sparkled at his answer, and she gently pulled him towards the balcony overlooking the mountains. "Good. It's been a while since we simply talked about something other than this war. I'd like nothing more."

Cullen smiled at her enthusiasm. "As would I."


End file.
